Missing, presumed dead
by Ellster
Summary: What should have been an uneventful security detail turns into a nightmare for Brandt, when a car explodes.
1. Part 1 - Chapter 1

If you are new to my stories, as always, I recommend you start at the beginning and read them in the order they are posted.

Note: This story is still set before Fallout.

More important note: This story contains some rather descriptive bloody grossness (hence the rating).

* * *

 **Part one**

 **Chapter one**

Good morning!"

Brandt blinked himself into consciousness, then slowly figured out where up and down was. He decided the underground was too hard to be his pillow and once his body was awake enough to judge his position, he found himself in an all too familiar posture: hunched over his desk, half out of his office chair, his face resting on an open mission report.

"Coffee?" the voice asked again and he pulled himself upright.

The analyst gratefully accepted the cup and took a long sip of the strong hot brew. Then he looked up at his visitor. "Weren't you supposed to come back tomorrow?"

"It is tomorrow," Elaine replied, leaning on the edge of the desk.

Brandt looked at his watch, registered the date and time, then buried his face in his hands with a desperate sigh. When he looked up again, Elaine was smiling at him compassionately. "Bad day?" she asked.

"Bad year," Brandt muttered. They were barely a month into 2015, but he already had enough. But before he could launch into a rant, he cut himself short. "Thanks for the coffee."

Elaine nodded. "When was the last time you've eaten?"

Will thought for a moment, then shrugged sheepishly. With a sigh Bray produced a wrapped sandwich and a nougat croissant, indicating the sofa with her head. He wanted to protest, but one look told him that resistance was futile, so he only checked his phone to make sure no new disasters had come up since last night. Then he sat down next to her.

"What global catastrophe did I miss this time that makes you so stressed out?" Elaine asked once he had obediently started eating his sandwich.

Brandt took just enough time to swallow. "Nothing, actually," he grumbled. "But we're still cleaning up after London, and the CIA is getting annoying again. And for some reason, everything that's going wrong ends up on my desk."

"I thought things were getting better," Elaine put in.

"They are," Brandt replied, thinking back to the time the IMF had spent in limbo and he had had to run the place. Compared to then the current situation was almost relaxing.

"And you can't just delegate more things?" she asked, well aware that was one of his weak spots.

"To whom?" Brandt sighed. "We're not even halfway through the intel from Reykjavik and brought back a ton more from London. And that the thing you and Skye found in Oslo shut down half our tech department isn't helping either."

"Ouch," Elaine commented. "Anything I can do?" she offered, although she knew there probably wasn't much.

Brandt shook his head and emptied his coffee. Then he looked at her with a thoughtful frown. "Actually," he started, "have you had your medical check-up yet?"

"I've got an appointment with Dr. Lee tomorrow," she replied. "The Oslo doctors generally cleared me, but I think she's gonna ground me from missions for another few weeks for rehab."

"Well, it's not really a mission," Brandt started and received an annoyed glare from Elaine. He sighed.

"The CIA is trying shut us down again. Hunley has used his influence to shut them up so far, but now the FBI is in on it," Brandt explained. "Anyway, they called a conference, a meeting of all heads of the bigger intelligence agencies. It's not actually official since we are involved, but I still have to put together a security detail."

"And?" Elaine asked with mild interest.

"I already have Luíse Pike on the overall planing and the perimeter, but I still need people for the actual detail. I know it's not exactly a high profile job." Brandt shrugged. "On the plus side, we'll be spending a week in some posh hotel in Chicago."

"Chicago?" she asked in surprise. "Isn't that a bit out of the way, considering everyone is in D.C. already?"

"That's the point," Brandt replied. "Helps keeping it a secret."

Elaine nodded, then smiled. "Alright," she said. "Provided Dr. Lee gives her okay, I'm in."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"How long did you stay yesterday?" Luther asked, fishing a coffee cup out of the cupboard.

A very obviously sleep deprived Benji grimaced. "Too long," he replied filling his own mug. "But at least it got us back to 80%. And the rest is Yusuf's problem now."

"Oh?" Luther replied. "Where are you going?"

"Brandt drafted me for the surveillance part of his security detail," the Brit replied almost happily.

"Sounds boring," the other techie commented.

Benji shrugged. "Beats hours of restarts and defragmentation and sifting through server protocols."

"Isn't that a bit unfair?" Elaine chimed in, filling up two cups.

"That's why I'm a field agent," Benji grinned and wanted to add something more, but was interrupted.

"Hey, Munchkin!"

The two men turned their heads, and so did most of the people in the corridor. Only Elaine kept staring straight ahead as the tall, blond man approached with a broad grin. He comradely slapped her on the back and she almost spilled her coffee. "What's up?"

"Nothing that would concern you," Elaine replied coldly. She added milk to one cup and a generous amount of sugar to the other, but he was blocking her way.

"Heard some interesting stuff about you lately," he continued, pouring coffee in an exaggeratedly slow motion. "I got to tell you, I wouldn't have thought you could..."

"Cliff, move," Elaine said threateningly. She considered pushing past him, but there was no way to get through with both of her coffee mugs intact.

"Oh, am I in your way?" Cliff asked innocently. He answered her deadly glare with a wicked grin, but when he caught sight of Luther and Benji he retreated. "Well, see you around," he said, toasting with his coffee mug before he disappeared back down the corridor.

"I hope not," Elaine muttered under her breath.

"Munchkin?" Luther asked, but didn't receive a reply. "You two got a history?"

"Don't ask," Elaine answered sourly.

"You know, I think it's fitting," Benji put in, but then refrained from elaborating when he caught her frosty glance.

"Well, Munchkin," Luther grinned, ignoring her stare. "You two have fun at that conference. I'll see you in a week."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Tyto, we're coming out."

There was a hint of relief reverberating in the calm voice that came in over the radio. Benji smiled. He had nothing against an easy assignment every now and then, but it was still tiring and after spending a week in a van, he was looking forward to the next mission with real action. "Roger that, Lupus," he said. "All stations ready, car standing by."

"Copy," Elaine replied with a smile she knew he could see over the security camera.

"Am I glad this is over," Brandt sighed next to her. They were walking briskly down the corridor, their steps echoing from the stone floor and high walls. "If I never hear the words 'jurisdiction' and 'oversight' again it's still too soon."

"It wasn't that bad," Hunley put in, but not without irony.

"Grown men and women bickering like little children in a sandbox," Brandt replied and shuddered. "And your successor at the CIA is getting almost as bad as, well, you, sir."

The secretary chuckled. "Erika may be stubborn and ambitious, but she knows when she's in over her head. She'll come around eventually," he said. "Also Homeland seems to be on our side."

Brandt smiled wryly. "Only because Brassel knows what it's like on our side."

They had reached the glass double doors at the entrance of the conference building which were held open by two suited agents. Down on the street, an armored black car was already waiting. They crossed the stripe of side-walk quickly and in silence and the secretary already had his hand on the handle of the back door when Elaine interjected.

"Sir," she said pointedly.

Hunley stepped back with a smile. "Alright," he replied with a 'go-ahead'-gesture. "Protocol to the last."

The agent opened the door and quickly but thoroughly sized up the interior. Then she frowned and stepped inside the car.

Brandt tensed involuntarily. He told himself it was probably nothing, but his arm automatically brushed the hem of his jacket aside that was covering his back holster while waiting for the 'all-clear' signal. It never came.

Later he couldn't say what exactly had made him react. He grabbed the secretary by the collar of his suit and dragged him down, just before the shock-wave hit him in the back. Brandt was remotely aware of the impact and the subsequent rain of glass and shrapnel showering them. He felt the fabric of his jacket and shirt tear and the exposed skin of his face, hands and arms shred over the concrete. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he should be experiencing pain, but in that moment it just seemed unimportant.

Although he knew it was a bad idea, he turned his head back. Dazed, he stared at the car that was rapidly being devoured by a blazing fire. Then, slowly, everything faded to black.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

For one shocked second Benji just stared at the screen. A moment ago he had joked about how they'd have had more to do back in the labs, now he wished he hadn't said it. "Neil, call emergency services," he ordered.

The younger technician swallowed, then nodded, but Dunn was already focusing on something else. "Crover, I need a full perimeter shut-down, now," he said to the third man in the van who simply acknowledged silently. Then he got on the radio.

"Code red, code red. Situation unclear, agents are down," Benji said, surprised at how calm his voice was. On his screen, black-suited agents were now blocking the view of Brandt and the secretary, but what he could see of the car told him the fire brigade was probably going to be late. He took a shaky breath. "I repeat, code red..."


	2. Part 1 - Chapter 2

**Part one**

 **Chapter two**

The knock on the door was different than his usual visitors, Brandt thought. Cautious, but determined.

As usual, he didn't answer. And as usual the door opened anyway, only this time it wasn't doctors or nurses.

"Hey," Benji said, poking his head through the door.

Brandt nodded in reply so Benji came in and drew a chair up to the hospital bed. He looked sleep-deprived and exhausted, but mostly worried.

"So you drew the short straw, huh?" Brandt commented. He tried to hit a light tone but failed miserably. He looked unusually pale and messy in the chequered hospital gown compared to his usually neat appearance. A cut on his forehead was held together by steri-strips and the right side of his face was crusted with scratches.

"Well, the others are still in San Salvador," Benji replied with a shrug. "How are you doing?"

"Bruises, scratches, concussion. A couple of shrapnel cuts," Brandt shrugged. "How's Hunley?"

"Sprained wrist, but otherwise fine," Benji reported. They both knew Brandt had understated his condition. At least one shrapnel had come dangerously close to a major artery and both he and the secretary had been extremely lucky. "I think they're actually letting him out today."

For a while, they sat in silence, Brandt fidgeting with the bandaging around his wrist, Benji watching him anxiously. Several times Dunn tried to start a conversation, but every time he opened his mouth, he forgot what to say.

"I know she's dead," Brandt finally broke the silence. His voice sounded rough and husky, but more composed than Benji would have thought.

The techie carefully touched his friend on the shoulder. He bit his lip and nodded slowly, but there was something else in his gaze. Brandt picked it up immediately and gave him a questioning glance that demanded an answer.

Benji sighed. "There is a body, but we don't have a positive ID yet," he admitted.

Brandt nodded. "I was there," he said, hardly above a whisper. "There was no way for her to get out of that car and..."

His voice cracked and broke. He tried to start over, but his vocal cords wouldn't work anymore. The silence started to stretch again, but Benji was content to just sit there in case he was needed. Finally, Brandt looked up again with a tiny sad smile. "Thanks."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"So, how's it going?"

Benji looked up from his computer screen and stared at the chief analyst for a moment. Then he said in a husky, sleep-deprived voice: "Shouldn't you still be in the infirmary?"

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Brandt asked back with a shrug.

Benji looked at the time display on his computer with a sigh and earned a compassionate smile in return. "I need you to give me something to do," Brandt continued.

"Does Dr. Lee know you're here?" Dunn asked, but was ignored.

"You seem to be in charge of the investigation..."

"And you don't want to go to Hunley because the medics haven't actually checked you out yet," Benji added dryly.

Brandt bit his lip, but the look he gave the techie was confirmation enough.

The Brit ran a hand through his hair and suppressed another sigh. He hadn't asked to be in charge, but once the immediate situation had been dealt with he had automatically started looking for evidence. With Brandt and Hunley still out, everyone had just followed his lead and afterwards the secretary had simply confirmed that he was leading the investigation and he hadn't complained.

Benji gave his friend a concerned look. "If Dr. Lee says you should stay in the infirmary, maybe...?"

"Benji, it's not making anything better if I sit around and stare at walls," Brandt interrupted him with a pleading look. "Besides, you look like you could use the help."

Benji looked at him indecisively for a moment, then sighed. "Alright."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Benji immediately regretted he had sat down in the cafeteria instead of just taking some sandwiches and coffee down to the lab. He knew he was exhausted and overworked, staying awake solely on caffeine and adrenaline, but as long as he kept going, at least he could hold off the inevitable nightmares a little longer.

After he had caught himself blinking a second too long for the third time, he emptied his coffee. When he got up to get another one to take back to the lab, he almost ran into the three people he hadn't noticed coming up behind him. Skye just turned the almost-run-in into a hug. "So, how was the conference?" Luther asked with a grin.

Benji stared at them as if either he or they were crazy. Then, as smiles turned into concern, understanding struck. "You don't know yet?"

"We don't know what?" Ethan asked with an apprehensive edge in his voice.

Benji started to speak, then bit his lip and took a quick look around. "Not here," he decided, then quickly lead them downstairs through an unusually active tech section, until he found an empty office. Leaning against the table he waited until the door was closed.

"On the last day of the conference, there was a bomb in the secretary's car," he said calmly, quietly, but with a tremble in his voice that made the others shiver.

"Hunley?" Ethan asked carefully.

"He's alright. Brandt too," Benji replied, then his stone-faced expression ripped apart. "Elaine was in the car."

Skye had been next to him the whole time, now she hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her own voice cracking. Benji just pulled her closer, sinking his face into her hair, glad he was not alone anymore.

Ethan lightly put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault."

"You don't know that, Ethan!" Benji suddenly started, the shout tearing through the crack in his voice. Skye shrank away from his outburst, but kept her arm around his back, refusing to let go.

"It was our car, our driver. Every inch of it, every part of the plan, every pebble on the road was double and triple checked by our people," Benji continued with a deafening crescendo in volume and pitch. "We made sure that something like this could not happen. But it did, which means that we screwed up. So how can you say that it's not my fault!?"

Ethan took a step backwards, holding his hands up defensively. But Benji already slumped back against the table, letting himself fall into Skye's soft embrace.

"I'm sorry, I..." he started, then broke off to take a shuddering breath between clenched jaws. "It's just... It's been three days and we got nothing." He said the last word like a curse.

"Nothing?" Luther asked disbelievingly.

Benji sighed. "Right after the incident local police took over and they won't even share the results of their investigation unless we give them full cooperation, which would mean handing over all agents involved and their files, which we obviously can't. And the fact that there's five other agencies out there who all want a piece of us doesn't help," he explained. "Right now they're spinning it like we're the threat. Hunley is pulling all the strings he has and calling in like a million favors just to keep Ghost Protocol from happening again, and Brassel has chimed in on our behalf, too, but there's only so much they can do."

There were compassionate nods around the room and Benji took a deep breath. "What we did do was launch a full_scale internal investigation. We've been going over every detail of the plan, every agent's background, but there's nothing. It should have been impossible," he continued, frustrated. "We're just hoping we might get the police reports."

"I thought you couldn't get those?" Luther asked, although he already had an idea where this was going.

"Officially, no," Benji admitted. "We have to be very careful because the vultures out there are just waiting to catch us red-handed with some kind of misconduct. But we're working on alternative methods."

Ethan nodded slowly. After Benji's outburst, he had stood back, taking in the information, thinking. Now he looked up again. "How can we help?"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Brandt blinked, twice, three times, but the writing kept swimming in front of his eyes. With a sigh, he shut them and massaged his temples before he looked at the screen again.

He was deliberately ignoring Dr. Lee's warnings about taking it easy ever since he had virtually fled the infirmary. It had been Benji's idea to scan the local WiFi-networks for potential intel and also his hack that allowed them to do it remotely from D.C. It was still grunt work, but at least it kept him occupied.

Taking a sip from his coffee, he scanned the log entries around the date in question, found nothing suspicious and pressed 'next' to repeat the procedure for the 1049th time that day. When the count hit 1050, he stood up to refill his coffee and almost dropped his cup.

A window had opened on his screen, tied to a video feed. It showed a grey scale picture of a room, the camera angle making it hard to determine exact dimensions. In the middle a woman was sitting hunched over on a chair, above her on a strangely curved ceiling there was a writing:

AMTK-7352

But the woman herself was more interesting. Although her face was half hidden from the camera, he was sure who she was. And at the same time, he knew that it could not be.

By the time Brandt had blinked in surprise, the picture was gone, replaced by two words on a black screen:

'Signal lost'


	3. Part 1 - Chapter 3

I just wanted to say thank you for all the amazing feedback I got on this and other stories in the past few weeks. This is especially for the people who left anonymous reviews because I can't thank you guys personally. I love to hear what you think and it's what makes me want to write more and better. And if you have (constructive) criticism or suggestions, I'd love to hear those, too!

* * *

 **Part one**

 **Chapter three**

"Yesss!"

Throughout the room, sleepy heads turned towards the source of the jubilant outcry to look at the tattooed girl with long black hair falling over a side-cut on one side, lots of earrings and loud but astonishingly good-looking make-up.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" Cordelia repeated. "I got it! I got it!"

Benji's pulse spiked and he suddenly felt more awake than he had in days, but he forced himself to stay calm as he stood up and strolled over to her desk to look over her shoulder. "Something interesting?"

"Not really," she grinned with obvious understatement. "Just police reports."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Good news," Benji opened the meeting unceremoniously. His voice didn't support his words and his attempt at a tired smile barely succeeded. He had tried to make himself look presentable prior to the meeting and his hair was combed, but his chequered shirt was ruffled and there was a chocolate stain on his jeans he hadn't discovered yet. It didn't matter much, no one in the conference room looked much better.

"We have the police reports. And while we're still working over the details, there are two noteworthy elements already," he continued. "We knew before there were two bodies, one of which has been positively identified as the driver. The other one was, according to the local police, too badly burned to identify, but assumed to be Agent Bray. Our specialists, however, say that the unfortunate individual has to have been around 1.8 meters tall, likely more, and probably male. Also, according to them, the time and temperature necessary to burn a body to that degree are more in keeping with a major house fire and would not have been present inside the car."

On the last sentence, he had to raise his voice over the rising murmurs in the room. He waited patiently for the voices to die down before he called up one of the raised hands.

"Does that mean she's still alive?"

Benji bit his lip. He had anticipated the question and hoped it wouldn't come. "It means we have to assume she might not have been in the car," he explained diplomatically. "But we can't definitely say that it's not her until and unless we can positively identify the body."

"But then how did she get out of the car?" Cordelia asked. She unapologetically shouted the question into the room.

"We don't know," Benji admitted with a sigh.

Meanwhile, Ethan was watching Brandt. He hadn't talked more than 'I'm sorry' and 'How are you doing?' with the analyst since they had returned from San Salvador. They had been busy. Or rather they had kept themselves busy, but there had been enough to do.

So far Brandt had seemed to be doing well enough, but now he looked the worst Hunt had ever seen him. He was chalk white, making the broad bruises and scratches on his face stand out unnaturally darkly. The resignation in his eyes that he had tried to hide under a mask-like sense of duty had given way to a number of emotions that seemed to overpower his usually calm features, now dominated by a fear Ethan could understand only too well.

"Sir?" Ethan stood up and threw a questioning glance from Benji to Hunley. "If I may?"

The secretary nodded and he stepped forward. Hushed conversation filled the room while he worked on the computer, but they stopped immediately when he looked up. The screen behind him showed a cobblestoned square from a security camera. An orange Lamborghini was moving into view from one side, then stopped in the middle.

"At this moment in that car are myself, Agent Lei and an important briefcase," Ethan explained. Just after he had finished the sentence, the car was ripped apart by an explosion. In the front row, Brandt flinched and Hunt gave him an apologetic look before he stopped the footage. "We escaped the car through a hatch in the floor that connected to the underground sewage system. I'm not saying that's what happened here, but it's possible."

"I'm sorry," Benji interjected, "but that footage looks like you had a lot of time to do that."

"Because we did," Hunt replied. "But if necessary this maneuver can be executed much more quickly. If we assume the car was already in place, a good team could have incapacitated and extracted their target in maybe three seconds."

Heads turned throughout the room as Brandt stormed out and the door fell shut with a loud bang.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The knock on the door was polite and apologetic, but determined. Brandt didn't answer, but the door opened anyway.

"Hey," Benji said and closed it again gently. He approached slowly and set the coffee mug down on the desk. "Are you alright?"

"Ethan's right," Brandt muttered more to himself, his eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him. "It could work."

Benji stepped around the analyst and looked at the monitor. It was split into two windows, one showing the footage Ethan had just shown them in the conference room, the other the view from the security camera with which Benji had watched the tragedy unfold. He swallowed.

"It fits. The blast angle, the timing," Brandt continued, then suddenly collapsed onto his desk like a puppet with cut strings. "Fuck."

Carefully Benji put an arm around his shoulder as he broke into small sobs.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

When Benji and Brandt returned to the conference room, the technicians had gone back to work and Skye had distributed chocolate cake. Brandt was acutely aware everyone was trying very hard to not stare at him as he let himself fall into a chair. No one dared to speak, so the silence stretched into the uncomfortable until Brandt broke it.

"Two days ago I came across a live video feed originating close to the Chicago conference building," he said quietly. "It lasted only a few seconds, but I am sure it showed Elaine. And a writing on the wall. 'AMTK-7352'"

Looks were exchanged around the room while Brandt kept staring at a non-specific spot on the table. "Why didn't you tell us?" Benji asked, hurt and disappointment showing through.

Brandt looked up with a sigh. "If I had told you that yesterday," he asked, "what would you have thought?"

"Right," Benji conceded with a grimace. It was clearly visible that for at least a moment everyone had considered the analyst might be going crazy, himself included.

"Let's assume for now that whoever blew up that car has Agent Bray," Ethan put in. "Where does that leave us?"

"We go find her?" Luther asked and earned a reprimanding glance from Ethan for stating the obvious.

"Excuse me?" Crover stammered. Suddenly six pairs of eyes were resting on him with encouraging but inquisitive looks. He swallowed. "What about the body? I mean, why was there a second body in the car if she wasn't in it?"

"A decoy," Skye explained. "A body that badly burned takes time to identify. And if there had been only one body, we probably would have realized she hadn't actually been in the car much sooner."

Crover nodded with a little more self-confidence. "But we figured out it's not her even without a positive ID," he continued. "Why wouldn't they take someone smaller?"

"Well, maybe they knew it wouldn't fool us forever anyway and just thought it wasn't worth the effort," Benji suggested and helped himself to another piece of cake. "Also it did take us long enough to get there."

"And it wasn't her they were after," Brandt put in quietly. "She was just security detail. And if she hadn't spotted something suspicious, according to protocol the first person in the car would have been -"

"Me," Hunley finished the sentence for him with a grimace. "Alright, people. We still have a serious security breach and a missing agent," he continued, stressing the word 'missing'. "The good news is, if we find one, we'll probably find the other. So how do we do that?"

"Well, there was an access to the underground sewage system underneath the car. We disregarded it so far, because it should have been sealed and inaccessible anyway," Benji put in, clearly thinking while he was talking. He licked his fork, then picked up the cake and stood up. "But now we know they'd have had to transport a body both ways, so that's the only way they could have gone. I'll look into that."

"And we know it has to be more than one person with baggage," Ethan added, also rising from his seat. "We should have another look over the security tapes."

"And I'll try another trace on that video link," Luther put in and nodded at Crover to follow him.

The younger technician hesitated. "Shouldn't we inform the other agencies about this?" he asked carefully.

The secretary gave him a grim smile. "To hell with inter-agency cooperation."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Even when everyone else had left the conference room, Brandt stayed behind. His mind was racing. Every time he tried to sort his thoughts, to just grab one and hold onto it, others kept pushing in until he couldn't remember where he had started. And they all kept circling back around to that one thing he didn't want to think about.

The analyst started when someone pushed the so far untouched plate in front of him closer. He had thought he was alone, but Skye was sitting across from him. "Eat," she ordered before he could refuse.

Brandt sighed but obediently picked up the fork. The cake tasted too sweet and felt too sticky for him although he knew it was probably as close to perfect as any chocolate cake could get.

They sat in silence for a while until Skye asked: "Are you alright?" She had tried and failed to come up with something better.

Brandt shrugged, silently poking the cake. His mouth suddenly felt dry.

"If you want to talk..." Skye started but left the offer hanging in the air. She had wanted to find a moment to talk to Brandt ever since she had learned about what happened. Wanted to tell him about Connor. That she knew what he was going through. That it would take time, but eventually it would get easier. But all that had changed now and suddenly the small speech she had prepared so carefully wasn't valid any longer.

Brandt bit his lip, then sighed. "It's not Elaine they're after," he said silently. "They don't have a reason to keep her alive."

"Maybe they kept her for information or leverage," Skye suggested, but Brandt didn't look convinced. "You said you saw her on a live feed two days ago. If she was alive then, she's alive now. If they had wanted to kill her, they'd have done it right away."

Brandt nodded still staring at the cake that was slowly disintegrating under his fork. They both knew it was hardly more than a hollow hope, but at least it wasn't entirely unfounded. And it gave him something to hold on to. He looked up with an almost smile. "Thanks."


	4. Part 1 - Chapter 4

For those who are interested: For the music in this chapter I used Roger Cicero for reference, specifically his Sinatra concert in Hamburg in 2015.

* * *

 **Part one**

 **Chapter four**

Brandt didn't know how he had ended up in that particular bar. After his talk with Skye he had gone back to Benji, who had been working on potential escape routes of the kidnappers. Together they had identified places where they would have had to cross public security cameras and then gone through hours of footage with a fine toothed comb in the hope of finding any indication of where they had been and might have gone. Somehow Benji's tech wizards had even managed to coax enough detail out of the grainy pictures to feed the combined result into their facial recognition software.

And then, after over 24 hours of work interrupted only by coffee runs, bathroom breaks and short, usually involuntary naps, Benji had declared that it was all they could do and now they would have to wait for the computer to spit out the results, which could take hours.

They had both tried to make each other go to sleep, both knowing neither would have very much luck. Brandt had decided to humor his friend, also in the hopes that maybe he was just tired enough to sleep after all, and found an empty office with a couch. He hadn't wanted to use his own office where his thoughts would surely have drifted in unfortunate directions, and even less Elaine's office which they had misused to crash in on a regular basis. In fact, he had probably spent more time there over the past months than in his own apartment, so going home had just seemed altogether wrong.

It hadn't helped much. And after an hour of fitful tossing and turning, he had given up and, on a whim, gone out. The drizzly weather outside was matching his mood and he had wandered aimlessly through the streets while around him early evening quickly turned into night until he had felt cold and walked into the next bar.

It had immediately appealed to him, warm and slightly gloomy. For a moment he had wondered about the strange Sinatra cover they were playing until he had realized there was actually someone sitting at the piano. It had felt like a good idea when he had entered, something to distract him, if only for a while.

Until the pianist had inevitably struck a minor chord that resonated far too well with Brandt and now the lyrics hit home:

" _I try to think that love is not around,"_ he sang in a smooth tenor. _"Still it's uncomfortably near. My poor old heart ain't gaining any ground, because my angel eyes ain't here."_

It was all Brandt could do to not just break down crying. For a week now he had told himself he was coping while deep down knowing that the whole time he had just refused to deal with the situation. It was a common survival strategy among agents, almost like a reflex: Function as long as necessary and sort out feelings later.

It was a flawed strategy, they all knew it. The more you pushed out of your mind, the more would come back crashing down on you later. And to avoid the big breakdown you would just push harder, ultimately only delaying the inevitable. But even though Brandt knew he was doing it, he hadn't been able to stop it. He had told himself and everyone else that he could handle it, and maybe at first, he had been right. Every death was painful, some more than others, but in the end, a loss was just an irrevocable fact that with time he could get used to, and eventually, even the nagging sense of guilt might ease off.

Only now he was stuck in the uncertainty, between the irresistible hope that in the near future all of this might just be another bad dream and the dreadful scenarios that kept him up at night. That he might already be too late, but that maybe he could have done something.

And he finally had to face that he cared more than he wanted to admit. More than he had though he could allow himself to. After Croatia, after seeing Ethan and Julia, Benji and Skye, he had decided it was not something he wanted. He was happy for them, no question, but he just didn't care for the kind of heartbreak it could cause. And while he certainly regarded Elaine as a friend, he had never thought that their relationship could have been anything more than casual.

Yet he was sitting in a bar in the middle of the night, staring into a glass of gin tonic he had hardly touched, getting emotional over a piece of sad music. He felt pathetic. In retrospect, it was obvious that someone as careful as her wouldn't go for anything less than serious. And if he was fully honest with himself, he had known it. He had accepted it, maybe even wanted it. But he had been too scared to admit it, too scared to ask. Too scared he might be rushing things and she would run away again. And now he might never get the chance.

The last piano note hung in the air for a moment before the pianist stepped off the pedal. Well-intentioned applause rose in the room, followed by sporadic conversations. Brandt blinked away a tear as he emptied his drink and headed back out into dark rainy streets.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Luther looked at the computer screen a moment longer and double checked the data before he shut the laptop and stood up. He was careful to be silent as he walked through the rows of working technicians and past the desk where Benji and Brandt were sleeping fitfully, one on the keyboard of his computer, the other on an empty coffee mug that had fallen over. He decided not to wake them, they deserved the rest.

Then he left the big main office and started searching until he found what he was looking for. Ethan had at least decided to find a sofa in an otherwise unoccupied room for his nap instead of just falling asleep on a workplace.

"Ethan," Luther called silently once he had closed the door and softly shook him by the shoulder.

Hunt woke up with a sharp intake of breath and grabbed his hand by reflex. Blinking into the light he let go and sat up. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, doesn't matter," Luther replied and sat down on the sofa beside him. "I found that live feed Brandt was talking about. It was a burst transmission, just over a second, but I saw it."

"Are you sure?" Hunt asked, eyeing him from the side.

"Ethan, I'm not imagining things," Luther replied sharply. "I know what I saw and it matches what he described. Also, it was a live image, so we know she's still alive. And look at this."

He opened the laptop screen and positioned it so Ethan could see what he was doing. "The signal is coming from a WiFi-camera. It's connected to a mobile device that is sending those burst transmissions in roughly two-hour-long intervals. I don't know where the receiver is, but I have the device's unique signature, which means we can pick up and back-trace the transmission next time it sends. And I even managed to get a rough trace on it this time."

"How accurate...?" Ethan started, looking at the map and the dot blinking in it.

"A few miles," Luther replied before the question was finished. "Make it five."

Ethan blinked in surprise, whit a look that said 'not bad'. "That's not Chicago," he stated.

"No," Luther acknowledged. "But it might be a good place to start."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Benji sleepily blinked at the screen in front of him, groping at the keyboard to make the incessant beeping noise stop, and wondered if the rectangular impressions on his forehead could ever become permanent. He rubbed his eyes to dispel the remnants of sleep, then rubbed them again in disbelief. His gaze locked on the screen, he reached out to shake awake Brandt. The analyst reacted violently, almost throwing both of them off their respective chairs before he was conscious enough to realize what he was doing. "Sorry," he apologized, picking up the chair that had fallen over. Only then he registered Benji's expression that barely managed to contain his excited grin.

"We got a facial match," Dunn explained. "Here in D.C."

Brandt stared at him, almost missing his chair as he sat back down. Then his brain caught up with him. "Where?"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Ethan caught a glimpse of the sun rising behind the container stacks and sighed. The signal Luther had picked up had led them to Baltimore, and a second ping had narrowed it down to an area in the train yard near the container port, but only within a radius of almost a mile, which left a lot of ground to cover. They had searched the area in the hopes of finding any further clues, but so far they had turned up nothing and were mostly waiting for the next signal to hopefully narrow down the radius further.

Although he had known their lead was weak, to begin with, Ethan felt frustrated. It had seemed like finally something was moving, like they were getting closer, but now they were stalled again, and he hated having to stand around while waiting for something to happen.

"We got a ping," Luther finally ripped him out of his thoughts. "It moved south. But still within the radius, so it could just be a..."

"Where?" Hunt interrupted him with a sudden sense of urgency. He had turned south, now gazing along the train tracks that dissected the container yard.

"About half a mile that way," Luther replied, pointing. Then he looked up. "Oh, no."

A long freight train was slowly gathering speed parallel to his outstretched arm, but several yards to the left.

"Come on," Ethan called, already running ahead and the other agent had no choice but to follow. Hunt had a vague sense of déjà-vu as they crossed between standing trains, empty tracks, and stacks of containers.

The line was branching off a little further down the yard and the train was speeding up quickly. When suddenly a small stationmaster's house blocked his way he already thought he had lost it, but as he rounded the corner, the last carts were just rolling past.

With a final sprint, they pulled themselves onto the side beams of a boxcar. It took some effort, but Ethan managed to slide the doors open and they hauled themselves inside.

For a while there was only the sound of their labored breathing above the rattling of the train on the tracks, then Luther grumbled: "You better be right about this."


	5. Part 1 - Chapter 5

Warning: This is where it starts to get gross. If you can't see blood, this might not be for you.

* * *

 **Part one**

 **Chapter five**

"Mr. Secretary!"

Skye was almost surprised that the tall man who came rushing out of his office actually turned around to her. She quickly caught up to him. "May I have a word with you, sir?"

"Agent Holt," Hunley looked as tired as she felt and neither of them had any illusions that the other had been sleeping at home that night. "I'm sorry," he said with surprising sincerity. "But this is a bad time."

"Sir, Agent Brandt has asked me to keep an eye on you," Skye said straight out. If time was short she wouldn't waste any. "At least one of the men who targeted you has been confirmed to be in D.C."

Hunley's eyes narrowed. "I see," he said. She could see his jaws working.

"You know my record, sir," Holt added before he could send her away. "I can protect you, and I will. Whether you want me to or not."

The secretary frowned. "Agent Holt, I just got off the phone with one of my old CIA contacts," he said in a rapid and hushed voice. "He says he has information and wants to meet me, but he'll only meet in person, on a train that leaves in," he checked his watch, "seven minutes."

"Sir, under the circumstances, I think that is a bad idea," Skye interjected bluntly.

Hunley glanced at the gun holster peeking out under the edge of her cardigan. "Come with me."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Do you have him?" Brandt turned a half circle in the crowded station hall, but there were just too many people. Next to him, Benji shrugged. "Please tell me you..."

"I see him! I see him!" an excited Scottish voice interrupted him. "He's, uh..."

"The trains," Crover interjected more calmly. "He's headed for the train platforms."

"Copy," Benji replied with a tiny bit of pride. He located the sign pointing them to the trains, Brandt close on his heels.

While they fought against the wave of suited commuters moving the other way in the morning rush hour, for a moment the analyst was strangely aware of his own three-day-old clothes that had been slept in twice and was wet from the rain: stained trousers, crumpled shirt, and no tie. But none of that was important now and he quickly pushed the thought away.

"Platform five!" two voices called with a half second delay.

"He's on platform five," Crover specified. "He's boarding the train!"

"Are you sure?" Brandt asked, looking down the almost eerily empty platform.

"Yes!" the two techies called in unison.

Brandt and Benji started down the platform running for the nearest cart. The doors locked behind them.

"What now?" Brandt asked, looking up and down the narrow corridor.

"Well, he's on the train. And you're on the train," Neil pointed out.

"There's no cameras in the carriages," Crover added. "The only thing we can do from here is have an eye on the stations."

"Alright," Brandt sighed. "We'll split up."

He exchanged a glance with Benji, then turned towards the front of the train while the other agent headed into the opposite direction. His progress was slow, checking every seat, every compartment, and every bathroom. He had just crossed the first carriage when someone approached him from the other side, waiting for him in the space where the carts were connected and there was more room to pass than in the narrow corridor.

The man was wearing a dark raincoat, the wet hood still drawn over his head and the agent tried to catch an unobtrusive look at his face as he passed. Only at the door to the next carriage he turned around, suddenly realizing his mistake. While the agent hadn't immediately identified the passenger, the other man had recognized him.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Benji knew he had the longer part ahead of him going towards the rear, but they'd have to search the entire train anyway and it didn't really matter one way or another. He made sure to look at all the passengers as he passed down between the rows, pretending to be looking for a particular seat whenever someone was paying attention. So focused on his task he only noticed the blond woman when he was standing directly in front of her. He stopped in surprise, then quickly slid into the opposite seat.

"Skye, what...?" he started, then his glance fell onto the man next to her. "Sir, you shouldn't be here."

"Agent Dunn," Hunley acknowledged calmly. "Is there anything we should know about?"

"The man we tracked earlier," Benji said urgently. "He's on this train and probably not alone. And they are after you."

"We had a tip from a contact," Skye informed him. "I was against it."

Benji bit his lip. At least, he thought, the fact that Agent Holt was with the secretary made him feel a little better. He sighed and reached for his radio.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Brandt, we've got a problem. The secretary is on the train."

Ethan stopped in his climbing and listened again to make sure he had heard right. "Benji?" he asked incredulously. "What are you doing here? No, wait. What's Hunley doing here?"

"Ethan?" Benji exchanged a confused glance with first Skye, then the secretary, but they both seemed as surprised as he was. It was Hunt, he was sure of that. Yet he had sounded... weird. "Where are you?"

"We're on the train," Ethan replied, lowering himself down the side of the cart where there was a little more shelter from the wind.

"Oh, okay," Benji said, then frowned. "Wait, when you say on the train..."

"Yes, on the train," Luther interrupted him, clearly disgruntled. "As in on top of a box-car."

"We were tracking Brandt's video feed," Ethan added.

"We go a facial match and tracked the guy back to the train," Benji explained. "But we haven't found him yet. And Hunley..."

He was interrupted by a loud explosive crack on the radio. At first he thought it was just interference, but then it was followed by two more.

"Wait," Luther put in. "Where's Brandt?"

Benji suddenly shuddered despite his coat. "Brandt?" he called. "Brandt, come in!"

"There's armed hostiles." The analyst's voice sounded breathless, then suddenly was cut off by another crack.

"Brandt!" Benji called again, but without receiving an answer. For a moment he looked from Hunley to Skye, unsure what to do. But the intention behind Holt's gaze was clear as she patted the barely visible bulge under her cardigan as if to say she could take care of things.

Benji nodded and stopped only long enough to leave her his radio earpiece. Then he hurried back down the cart.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Brandt turned around just in time to see the blade catching the light behind his shoulder. Reflexively he turned more sharply and brought up his arm. His elbow connected with his adversary's hand and instead of plunging the knife into his back it swerved wide above his head.

He followed up the move with a right hook aimed at the man's jaw and although it didn't hit directly his opponent staggered backwards. Yet in the confined space he quickly caught himself on the wall and Brandt had barely time to breathe before the next attack.

"Brandt, we've got a problem," Benji's voice sounded over the radio. "The secretary is on the train."

Brandt decided he was too busy with the more urgent problem of staying alive to respond. He ducked just in time to escape another knife attack, this time directed at his face, then caught his opponent's arm just before the backhand swing could hit his throat. Sidestepping his enemy, Brandt tried to pull him to the floor, but his grip wasn't tight enough and the man managed to wind out of it.

This time the agent didn't let the other man regain his balance but charged after him immediately. With his left hand, he smashed the man's wrist into the wall and the knife clattered to the floor. He rammed his knee into his adversary's stomach, who doubled over and -

Suddenly Brandt found himself looking at the floor, close enough he could have counted the individual dust particles. His head was ringing from the impact and his pulse was throbbing in his ears. He felt like he was moving in slow motion as he reached behind his back but already knew the holster would be empty when he heard the tell-tale click of a gun being loaded to his left, breaching into his numb mind like a thunderclap.

Brandt turned around, at the same time grabbing his still dazed first opponent. Dragging the man in front by the shirt collar, he forced himself up on one knee and then forward, ducking behind his human shield.

The first bullet hit the man in the shoulder and Brandt almost staggered backwards from the impact. The second tore through the side of his neck and the agent could feel the projectile scraping over his arm where he was holding his victim by the shirt. He could feel warm blood running over his hand.

Then they crashed into the second attacker and the wall. Brandt discarded the now dead body and reached for his new adversary's gun hand. He grabbed it, twisted the weapon away and shoved him face first into the wall, with enough force to keep him there but not so much it would cause him serious damage. He would take this one alive to answer their questions.

He waited a little to catch his breath, then he reached for his radio. "There's armed hostiles," he started but didn't get to finish the explanation.

The train rocked and to keep his balance Brandt had to shift backwards. His opponent used the movement to try and ram his head into the agent's face, only barely missing his nose. It made Brandt's teeth hurt as his jaws smashed into each other and with another jerk of the train he lost his footing and fell.

The base of his skull connected painfully with the wall and momentarily his vision blurred. When he could see more clearly again, the other man was scrambling for the gun. Brandt knew he couldn't get in between, so he kicked out, first at the gun which skidded away over the floor, then at his opponent. He could feel his foot hit something, but then his ankle was caught in the man's grip, who twisted it sideways, forcing him onto his belly. He kicked again, but without seeing what he was doing it was impossible to score a sure hit.

Struggling against his adversary's hold, Brandt tried to get his eyes and possibly hands on the gun. It had come to rest closer to him than to his opponent, but just out of his reach and the other man had him pinned down. The goon wouldn't be able to reach the weapon either, but Brandt realized he wouldn't have to when he saw the metal glint out of the corner of his eye. He threw himself around with all the force he could muster, ignoring the tearing sensation and subsequent pain in his ankle, and managed to catch the other man's wrist, the knife blade just millimeters from his face.

Brandt had a good grip and knew he would be able to hold him off for a while, but unless he managed to gain a significant advantage quickly, the man's greater mass and gravity would soon win out. And since he was still pinned down, his outlook was pretty bleak.

Feeling his strength draining, the agent decided to go for the gun. It was a risky move, but the only chance he had. Maybe too risky, it turned out. The grip of his gun already at his fingertips he felt the knife blade scrape over his neck.

Then a gunshot sounded and the man collapsed. Stretching forward, Brandt got hold of his gun, turning towards the potential new danger and relaxed when he saw Benji standing in the door. With a sigh, he leaned back to catch his breath and incredulously stared at the ceiling.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Benji swallowed at the sight that could have been straight out of a horror movie with blood splattered over walls, floor and ceiling. He quickly checked there was no third attacker hidden somewhere, then knelt down beside the other agent.

"Brandt?" he called, checking his friend for injuries. There were some bad bruises on his face and a bump on the back of his head, but no obvious fractures or other serious injuries and the cut on his neck wouldn't even need stitches. Yet the analyst didn't even acknowledge his presence. "Brandt, do you hear me?"

"She's on the train," Brandt muttered, still staring at the ceiling. Then he suddenly grabbed Benji's forearm and looked straight at him. "Benji, she's on the train!"

"Lie down," Dunn ordered and tried to gently push him back. But Brandt had one arm around his shoulder and to not have them both fall over Benji had to let him pull himself up.

Before he was even in a stable sitting position, Brandt activated his radio. "Ethan, she's on this train," he explained in quick, precise words. "'AMTK-7352'. It's a rail car designation. A converted passenger car in the rear."

"How do you know?" Benji asked, but then his gaze followed Brandt's hand pointing upwards. Below the curved ceiling, a similar code was painted on.

"I saw it when we boarded," Brandt added and met Benji's gaze. His eyes conveyed something he hadn't said aloud: Why hadn't he realized it earlier?

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Ethan stopped in his climbing and looked up. They had run up beside the track while the train had been standing in D.C., but had not made it to the passenger compartment. And once they had gathered speed again afterwards, progress had been slow.

He could see the curved roofs of the passenger carts behind the boxcar he was clinging to. They had planned to wait for the next station and proceed then, but now that wasn't an option anymore. Carefully he pulled himself forward along the side until he could see the next cart. There even was a handwritten note in the window that designated it as a freight cart.

"I see it," he said and quickly crossed the gap between the rail-cars before he could think about what would happen if he fell. "We're going in from the back."

"We'll cover you from the front," Skye's voice acknowledged over the radio.

"Kiddo?" Luther asked but Holt interrupted him.

"Benji went after Brandt," she explained. "He gave me his radio."

"You should stay with Hunley," Ethan put in.

"He's with me," Skye replied and before either of them could protest she added: "When you cut off the back they can only go forward. We can't let them escape and I'd rather take them on face first."

"Alright," Ethan sighed. "We're going in now."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Contrary to other sensations that the brain fades out with constant stimulation, the perception of pain is reinforced by persistent stimuli.

Elaine found that generally, that theory was accurate, except that at some point even pain was something she could get used to. At least to a degree, and especially if there was something worse. In her case that something worse was the incessant sound of metal scraping on bone. She could feel it in her teeth like fingernails on a chalkboard, but she bore it like she did the pain, with clenched jaws and an icy stare.

There was nothing else she could do. They didn't believe her protests that she didn't know the answers to their questions, so she had decided to just ignore them entirely.

Then the sensations stopped. Only the pain remained, like an after-image. Elaine took a slow, deep breath, waiting for the inevitable next question, offer or insult. But nothing happened. Something was different.

She looked up and straight into the face of her torturer, lips tight with panic, holding the scalpel like a dagger, aimed at her throat. She hardly felt the pain when it hit.


	6. Part 1 - Chapter 6

**Part one**

 **Chapter six**

The thin plastic door almost splintered when Luther kicked it in. He stormed into the room, gun in hand. His first bullet hit the only adversary head-on, the second smashed the wall-mounted camera into pieces. Ethan moved straight past him to the other side of the room, so Luther headed to the chair in the middle.

Elaine was tied to the chair, hands behind her back. She was still wearing her suit, minus the jacket and shoes, the formerly white shirt now a dirty grey-brown, dotted with blood stains. Her head was hanging down limply, her face shadowed by strands of sweaty hair and a line of fresh blood ran down the side of her neck.

Luther swallowed. Somehow the man had seen them coming and he had feared things might get messy. Now he was almost sure he had been too slow. Carefully he lifted her head and sighed in relief. The gash that ran from behind her left ear down to the base of her neck cut deep into the muscle, but nothing more and she was breathing in quick short gasps.

Cautiously he held her upright by the shoulders. "Hey, Munchkin," he called, trying to catch her look, but there was no reaction. "Elaine," he said more sharply. "Look at me!"

Slowly her gaze rose to meet his and something like recognition crept across her face. Gradually her rapid breathing slowed.

"You're safe," Luther added more calmly and received a tiny nod in reply.

Ethan returned from the other end of the cart, his gun holstered, but a pocket knife in his hand. He stepped behind the chair and cut her ties.

Her hands suddenly free and no longer holding her back, Elaine slumped forward, but Luther held her steady. He could feel her fingers digging into the sleeves of his jacket for support. Her arms were trembling from the effort.

"Can you stand?" Ethan asked from the side.

Elaine's mouth twitched. Her voice was thin but surprisingly steady. "No bets."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Skye didn't care anymore about concealing her weapon. She hurried down the corridor at the fastest possible pace, gun drawn, with Hunley following closely behind her. Most of the passengers didn't even look at them, only when two gunshots sounded in the back, a few heads turned.

Skye didn't pay them any notice. Almost on reflex, she started running, crashing into seats left and right as the train moved. Then the rows ended in front of a door with a sign saying 'authorized personnel only'. She stopped and waited for Hunley to move up to cover her before she broke through.

The cart behind it looked like the passenger carriage they had just left, but with the seats taken out. Boxes were stacked on both sides of a narrow corridor, sometimes up to the ceiling and secured with lashing straps. Skye proceeded slowly, checking behind every stack. Although there was very little space for anyone to hide, the sharp shadows and having no clear line of sight made her nervous.

Happy to be through, she glanced into the last niche and suddenly looked down the barrel of a gun. Skye had her own weapon half raised when both agents relaxed. Luther acknowledged them with a nod.

"Have you found her?" Hunley asked, holstering his own weapon.

"Yes, Ethan's with her," Luther replied, then turned to Skye. "We'll need some bandages."

"I saw a first-aid-kit earlier," Holt answered, already turning back to fetch it. When she returned, Ethan just emerged from the compartment. He greeted her with a nod before Luther waved her on inside, then turned to the secretary.

"Sir, I need to talk to you."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"I don't think you should get up," Benji argued and prevented Brandt from getting on his feet.

"Benji," the analyst said slowly, propping himself up on his arms in the half sitting, half kneeling position their short struggle had left him in. "I have to see her!"

"I know," Benji replied, surprised by his own calm. He knew if it had been Skye they were talking about he'd react exactly the same. Also, Elaine was his friend, too, and the current lack of radio chatter did make him a little uneasy, but right now his priority was Brandt. The other agent had been beaten up quite badly and he at least wanted to have a look at his injuries first.

Carefully he pushed him back down, with just enough strength to break his resistance. "Stop struggling or I'll tie you up," Benji threatened, reaching the end of his patience when he saw a movement in the corner of his eye. Reflexively he looked up and at a white-faced ticket inspector standing in the doorway.

With a sigh, he gave Brandt one more warning glance and got up. "It's okay, we're police," he said calmly to the railway employee, flashing a fake ID. He even remembered to put on an American accent.

The woman looked up from the carnage on the floor and nodded.

"Can you seal off this area?" he asked, pocketing the ID. "And call an ambulance to the next station."

She nodded again.

"Good," he replied and gave her a quick smile, then turned around sharply at the crashing sound behind him. Brandt had pulled himself up but forgotten that his injured ankle wouldn't support him and fallen face first onto the floor. Still, he was already clinging to the wall again and hobbling towards the door that led into the next compartment.

Benji cursed. "Wait for me, dammit," he called. "At least let me help you!"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Skye found Elaine sitting on the floor in a corner, slumped back against the wall, her eyes half closed. Luther was already kneeling down next to her.

"Hey, Munchkin," he asked, shaking Elaine lightly by the arm. "You still with us?"

Bray's eyes slowly opened more, then spotted Skye in the back. Her mouth tightened into something that might have been a smile under different circumstances. She looked very pale against the grey spotted wall. "Don't ask," she said, apprehending Skye's question.

Luther turned around to the newcomer and Holt handed him the first-aid-kit. She answered Elaine with a smile she hoped didn't betray her thoughts.

The other woman had deep gashes on her hands and feet. One was fresh and still bleeding, the others were covered in thick crusts. Skye had to swallow hard to keep her bile down. Under the clots of blood, she could see bones, sinews and muscles move, it reminded her of one of the posters often decoration doctor's offices and on the hands, the cuts seemed to go all the way through to the other side. If he hadn't been dead already she would gladly have killed the man responsible with her own bare hands.

Forcing herself to stay calm, Skye crouched beside the others while Luther distributed the contents of the first-aid kit. "How are you doing?"

Elaine blinked the equivalent of a shrug. "Been better. Been worse."

Holt acknowledged the reply with a nod. Very carefully she cleaned one of the hands of dried blood, then gently wrapped it up in a bandage. Elaine endured the treatment and liberal use of antiseptic with hardly a flinch.

After they were finished, Skye was about to offer to stay with her, when the door to the front opened. Benji and Brandt walked in, the latter with one arm around his friend's shoulder for support. They both tensed at the sight of blood-stains on Luther's jacket sleeves, but he anticipated their question: "Don't worry, she's alright."

A little more relaxed, Dunn handed Brandt over to Luther, then stepped over to Skye. With a quick glance back he made sure his help wasn't needed, then led her towards the door.

Once outside, Skye sought his gaze with worried eyes. "Are you alright?" she asked.

He grimaced. "We made a bit of a mess back there. The sweepers are gonna have a field day," he attempted to lighten the mood, but then saw her tight face. "You?" he asked softly.

Skye nodded, but a little too quickly and he noticed the tiny sideways glance at the next compartment. Benji caught her eyes with a questioning look, but she buried her face in his shoulder. shoulder again.

For a moment Benji gazed back at the door they had just come through, then he pulled her closer and nudged his nose into her soft blond hair. Luther had said Elaine was fine and he trusted the other man's judgment. And whatever Skye had seen, she would talk about it in her own time.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Heeeeeyyyyy!"

Elaine looked up at the newcomers with an attempt of a grin that didn't get past a grimace, but for Brandt, in that moment it would have passed as the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. She exchanged an unreadable glance with Luther, then examined him with a professional scrutiny he guessed had to be a reflex. Once he had settled down on the floor next to her, she delivered her expert opinion: "You look like shit."

Brandt had to admit she was probably right. "Likewise," he replied. He had meant to say it lightly, but there was still enough worry showing through.

Elaine shrugged. She was sitting close enough he could feel her shoulder brush against his. "You did take your time."

Her remark elicited an unexpected chuckle that was immediately drowned by a half-sob. Brandt coughed. "We thought you were dead," he said. He tried to make it sound matter of fact, but his voice fell apart in front of him.

Elaine nudged her head around his arm and into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered sincerely.

It was absurd, Brandt thought. It should be him comforting her, not the other way around. But somehow it also felt weirdly right.

Elaine moved in closer and put one bandaged hand on his arm. "It's okay," she said. "I'm here."

She was right, Will thought and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I know," he said, his voice still rough, but solid.

Elaine seemed to be content with that and leaned back in his arm.

Will didn't know what to say or do and suddenly was too scared to move. So he just held her, loose but steady, and a little bit awkward, and listened to the clatter of the train on the tracks and her breathing growing deep and slow. Carefully he bent his head down over her fluff of dark blond hair. He breathed in the scent that was creamy and salty and a little bit spicy.

They were alright. This was what he had been hoping for, but not dared think would really happen. She was alive, they were together and given a little time, they would be fine. And yet there was this nagging thought in the back of his mind that gave him hot and cold shivers.

He should tell her. He had promised himself he would tell her, but now she was actually there, he couldn't get himself to do it, although there was absolutely no good reason why.

With a sigh, Brandt carefully leaned back against the wall. Elaine shifted slightly in his arms. He would tell her, he thought. Just not now.


	7. Part 1 - Chapter 7

**Part one**

 **Chapter seven**

"Hey, Munchkin."

Elaine blinked, then recoiled. "Stop that," she muttered, but with a sleepy smile. Then she turned to the window where the rays of the early morning sun were creeping in through half-drawn blinds. "How long did I sleep?"

"Almost 24 hours," Luther answered and folded down his newspaper. He got up from the armchair in the corner and walked over. "How do you feel?"

"The best I have in two weeks," she smirked. "Where are we?"

"Danville, Virginia," the other agent replied. It had been the next stop on the train line. "St. Mary's Hospital."

Elaine nodded. "And everyone else?"

"Ethan already flew back to D.C. with Hunley last night," Luther explained. "Skye and Benji decided to crash in a local safe-house after we dealt with the police and sweepers. And the doctors forced Brandt to get some sleep."

"And you?" she asked.

"Well, someone had to make sure you don't just disappear again. Also, it's a very small safe-house," he said, then stopped, when a nurse came in.

She checked up on Elaine and set down a tray of breakfast on the bedside table. Once Bray had convinced her that she wouldn't need any help, the nurse left again, and in her wake Skye and Benji entered.

"Morning," Benji greeted her with a grin and slipped a snickers bar onto her breakfast tray. He and Holt had obviously raided the safe-house wardrobe for fresh clothing.

Just when Luther had shut the door behind them, there was another knock. Brandt stepped in almost shyly, his hands buried in the pockets of a fresh grey suit. Freshly shaven he looked more like his usual self now, even the rings under his eyes seemed to have receded. Only a layer of fresh bruises on his face that mingled with the older scratches and the short cut along his right jaw bone that was fixed up with a single butterfly told of the previous day.

"Hey," he said, his voice still scratchy.

"Someone's looking better," Elaine replied with a smile, but she was suddenly very aware of the blue-striped hospital gown she was wearing.

Will pulled up a chair next to the bed. "What about you?"

"Well, they do have good painkillers," she said with a shrug and tried to secure a loose strand of fringe behind her ear, but with her hand bandaged up to her fingertips, she failed to get it there.

Carefully Will picked up the hair and brushed it out of her face. Elaine flinched at the unexpected touch, but when he wanted to remove his hand, she held it in place. His hand moved gently behind her ear and down her neck, softly touching the white dressing that ran down to her collarbone. And then suddenly disappeared when they were both startled by the ring of a phone.

"Sorry," Brandt muttered. He had every intention of pushing it away, but when he saw the number, he got up with a sheepish look and answered the call. His face went tight as if he had bitten into a lemon and he quickly waved Luther, Benji and Skye back in who had been about to sneak out.

The call was very short and when it ended he slumped back down onto the chair. He looked at the expectant faces in turn. "Yesterday night the secretary's motorcade was ambushed on the way from the airport to HQ," he said with a distant voice. "Seven dead, three injured, two missing."

* * *

 _And since I know how much you like cliffhangers, I'm going to end on one._

 _Thanks for reading, a thousand thanks for the many reviews! And don't worry, part two is already in the hands of my trusted Beta-reader._


	8. Part 2 - Chapter 1

**Part two**

 **Chapter one**

"Yesterday night the secretary's motorcade was ambushed on the way from the airport to HQ," Brandt explained quietly. "Seven dead, three injured, two missing."

Benji looked at him incredulously. "What do you mean, ambushed?"

"Attacked. In the middle of the road," Brandt replied dryly. "We don't know what happened yet. Back in D.C., they're still picking up the pieces."

"Ethan?" Luther asked.

Brandt shrugged. "Half the bodies are still unidentified and there's two missing."

"So what now?" Skye put in.

"I'll have to go back," Brandt said. "There's a plane already waiting for us." He looked apologetically at Elaine, who had managed to pull herself into a sitting position, her legs already half dangling over the side of the bed.

"I'm coming with you," she decided. "Can someone please get me some clothes?"

"Are you sure?" Luther asked with a concerned look that was mirrored on all other faces in the room.

"I bet you these people are the same and I have the next best thing to first-hand intel on them. I'm coming," Elaine replied pointedly and pulled herself onto her feet. She swerved slightly, but her expression apprehended anyone from even asking if she needed help. "Now get me some clothes or I'll go like this."

"Way ahead of you," Skye smiled and dropped a small black travel back at her feet.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Luíse Pike, IMF Head of Security, was waiting for them on a live transmission into the IMF issue Cessna Citation Sovereign that took off as soon as they were aboard. She was leaning back in her office chair, black sunglasses pushed up onto her black curls that looked bushy even in the tight ponytail, but despite the seemingly relaxed posture, her expression was serious.

"The secretary landed around 8 PM last night and the motorcade headed towards HQ immediately on arrival," she explained to the agents seated in a rough circle around the wall-mounted screen. "They were ambushed on the way, barely outside the airport. This is the aftermath."

The picture of Pike shrank into one corner as photographs appeared on the screen. They showed stretches of road illuminated by floodlights, bits of motorbikes and people strewn over the concrete. In the middle a car was lying on the side, half draped over the central guardrail. The front end was dented in so much it was virtually non-existent.

"That was an armored car?" Benji asked just to make sure in view of the destruction.

Pike nodded. "They used a grenade launcher," she answered grimly. "From what we could reconstruct it looks like the impact hit in the middle of the front motorbike escort. The car driver tried to evade and was killed when he hit the railing. The second agent in the car and two of the rear escort were killed by gunshot wounds."

"Hunley?" Brandt asked.

"That's the complicated part," the head of security replied. "We still have a couple of unidentified bodies, and until we have an ID on all of them we can't definitively exclude that he isn't one of them. But by head-count, we're missing two people and from where we found the bodies the missing persons are most likely the secretary and Agent Hunt."

"It's them," Elaine said, sounding very sure. "Or at least Hunley. They've been after him the entire time, they want him alive."

There was a moment of silence as the news sank in. Then Luther asked: "So what now?"

Pike shrugged. "The oversight committee have made it clear that they won't appoint a new secretary unless we find proof Hunley is dead. Technically that means in the meantime we're operating directly under the president's orders..."

"But practically I'm in charge," Brandt sighed. At least this time he could just leave all but the most urgent stuff for the secretary and hope that Hunley would come back. That could actually get comparatively relaxing. He rubbed his face. "Do we have anything on who we're up against?"

"Not much," Pike admitted. "They seem to be pretty well organized and god only knows where they got that grenade launcher from. The computer wizards are currently trying to pull some usable images from satellite pictures and the security footage of a nearby ATM, but that's not looking good and it's all we've got so far. Two of our injured men are still in a coma and the third was knocked out by the blast and didn't see anything." That this most likely also saved the man's life was something that didn't need saying.

"But there needs to be more footage somewhere," Benji protested. "They can't have just disappeared."

"We did check all the cameras in the surrounding area, but so far that hasn't turned up anything," the head of security replied with a shrug. Then with a quiet ping, the fasten-seatbelts-sign turned on and they ended the conference.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Oh, honey. What did they do to you?"

Judy Curtis unwrapped the bandaging with a look of disgust, but her voice made it clear that the nurse wasn't talking about the woman in front of her.

Elaine smirked. "Do you really want to know?"

"Well, if you have to ask like that, I guess not," Judy replied and walked over to the other side.

"Let's change the topic," Bray offered with a half-amused smile. "Can I ask you something? It's about a guy..."

"Well, of course, you can. But I should probably tell you that Clarisse just broke up with me. Saying that she just can't live with my work times, that I'm never home, because I'm working shifts. Although she knew what she was getting into from the beginning. After two years. And she's been having an affair. With a man."

The nurse stopped her increasingly angry monologue and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't think I'm a lot of help regarding relationships right now. Or men. Yes?"

Elaine hadn't even realized there had been a knock on the door when it opened and Skye peeked in. Before she could ask, Bray waved her inside. Holt scowled at the hole in her hand as she closed the door. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

The other agent flexed her fingers demonstratively before the nurse reminded her to keep still. "It's not like I want it to stay that way," she said. "But it is kinda cool."

Skye decided that Bray apparently had a debatable definition of cool and looked away. "Brandt has called a meeting and he wants you there."

Elaine nodded. "Well, Yumi hasn't been here yet and I'm not gonna get out until she's had a look."

"Yumi?" Skye asked, confused.

"Dr. Lee," Judy explained with a smirk and tucked one of the thin braids that had escaped her ponytail back in.

As if on cue the door opened again and admitted the small but energetic woman. "Well, at least there's no broken bones this time," she sighed and put away the patient's file. Her slanted eyes narrowed slightly when she saw Holt, but she flashed her a quick smile.

The agent took the hint and headed for the door. "See you later."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Who's that?" Brandt asked, indicating the woman sitting next to Pike with his head. Although her suit was expertly tailored, the petite redhead looked a little as if she had stolen it from her parents' closet. Still, her face delivered a clear no-nonsense-attitude.

"Sanders will be heading your personal security detail," Luíse stated and leaned back in her chair with a smug smile.

The chief analyst sighed. "Of course she will."

"Brandt," Pike said, imploring.

"Luíse," Brandt replied innocently.

"As chief of security and de-facto head of operations, I'm next in line if something happens to you," she reminded him. "And that's one hat more than I'm willing to wear."

"So I need a watchdog now," the analyst responded sarcastically, at the same time giving Sanders and apologetic side-glance she accepted with a graceful smile.

"Considering the circumstances, yes. And since you're not actually the secretary, there's nothing you can do about that," the head of security grinned victoriously. "Also Sanders is one of my best people, ex-agent. You'll like her."

"I like her already," Elaine put in and took the last free seat between him and Skye.

Once everyone was seated, Luther opened the conference: "We've had a look at the satellite images and the footage from the ATM." Two pictures were projected side-by-side on the screen behind him, showing a stretch of street in grainy grey-scale, one in the distorted perspective of a fish-eye-lens and one from a birds-eye-view. "It's not very much and not very good, but it's the best we can do."

He pressed a button, then stood back and the pictures started moving synchronously, but haltingly. Four bikers came into view moving in a loose formation, followed by a heavy black car. They were standing out as dark shapes on the grey concrete. Then suddenly a light flashed over the screen, so bright it drowned out everything else. When it faded again, the motorbikes were scattered over the street and the car was standing almost horizontal to the street and men were swarming over the screen. Someone crawled out of the front door of the car and was gunned down immediately by the figures surrounding the car. A moment later two more emerged from the back of the car. They were forced down by the attackers and dragged off-screen, then the picture stopped.

"I guess that proves the two missing people are Hunley and Hunt," Skye commented.

"It's very likely," Pike put in, her voice implying her usual qualifier.

"Let's just assume it's them," Brandt decided. "Where did they go?"

"That's the problem," Benji answered. Standing next to Luther he pointed at an area beyond the frame of the picture. "There's a motorway bridge here and after that, they just don't show up anymore. Not on satellite images and not on any other footage we could find."

Elaine frowned. "So they disappeared somewhere under that bridge."

"We've had people check that out," Pike answered. "The only thing there is an access point to a storm drain and with the recent rains, it's very full. It seems unlikely if not impossible that they escaped through that."

"But it's the only way they could have gone," Benji replied. "And we know they have an affinity for underground tunnels."

"Let's have someone check out where they could have come out and see if someone showed up there," Brandt decided and across from him, Pike made a note. "What else do we have?"

"So far, nothing," Luther conceded. "The one guy we had a facial on was one of the dead bodies on the train. We've started searching for a signal like the one from the camera we found there, but it's unlikely we find something. Even if they are using a similar set-up, there are too many possible variables, so unless we know the unique ID of the hardware used..."

"And if they're on a train again, they could be wherever now," Benji added. "We can't possibly check every signal in the US by hand."

"So we'll have to narrow it down," Skye concluded. "What do we know about them?"

"The man in the cargo cart was a former doctor, pathologist, had his license revoked because of malpractice. The other two don't have any prior record," Pike sighed. "If it was just the three of them I'd say the doctor was the head of the group. But the big question is, what are they after?"

Everyone turned to Elaine. "They want Hunley because they believe he knows the location of someone or something called Morpheus."

"You mean like in _Matrix_?" Benji asked.

Bray looked at him questioningly. "Or the god of sleep and dreaming," she commented. "I do think this Morpheus is probably a person, but they didn't say anything that would make it clear."

"The question is, what would Hunley have to do with that?" Pike put in. "It's not connected to any of our operations."

"Not as far as I know," Brandt agreed.

"It could be something from his CIA time," Luther suggested.

Luíse nodded. "Should we put in a request with them and see what turns up?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Benji said tentatively. "Whoever is behind this has inside knowledge. I know the security breach could still be one of our own people, although we've found no evidence for that so far, but we still shouldn't dismiss the possibility that it might be someone in the other services."

"He's right," Brandt echoed what everyone had already realized, then sighed. "I'll make some careful inquiries, unofficially."

He made a note, then looked around to see if anyone had any further ideas. When the room remained silent, he got up, officially ending the meeting.


	9. Part 2 - Chapter 2

**Part two**

 **Chapter two**

"So, what did the good doctor say?" Luther asked when another face joined the round at their usual corner table in the cafeteria.

Elaine had just come from her standing daily appointment with the head of IMF's medical section and slumped into an empty chair with her hands digging into the pockets of her sweater. "There seems to be no residual infection," she said with a pleased smile. "If the stitches hold, it should heal up in a week."

Benji almost inhaled his pasta and blinked in surprise. "Really?" he asked slightly incredulously.

"And then there's still a couple of weeks of rehab before I can even think of training again. But it's not as bad as it looked," Elaine said with a shrug. "Less bad than being stabbed anyway, all the nerves and sinews are intact. I guess I should be glad that the asshole knew what he was doing," she added bitterly.

"Did you know that Dr. Lee's first name is Yumi?" Skye asked into the silence as it threatened to become awkward.

"Lee has a first name?" Benji asked even more astonished than before.

Luther wasn't convinced as easily. "Who told you that, kid?"

Skye nodded at Elaine and the other woman seemed to sink back into her chair when everyone looked at her.

"You're on a first name basis with Dr. Lee?" Luther asked.

Elaine shrugged awkwardly. "I worked as an intern in the infirmary for a couple of years when I first came to IMF." She stopped obviously relieved when another person neared their table and Benji waved her over.

"Hi, Jane," he grinned at Agent Carter who took a seat at the edge of their circle. "I think you haven't met Elaine yet?"

The two women nodded at each other in greeting. Bray had heard both Benji's and Brandt's accounts of the Ghost Protocol mission and Elaine had already had a certain fame around the lower levels which had slowly spread throughout IMF HQ, especially since the Oslo mission.

"How are you doing?" Skye asked at her obviously tired appearance.

"Well, it's midnight in Japan, and we only landed an hour ago," Jane commented with a grimace and took a sip from her coffee. "How was the conference?"

"Well," Benji started, but then shut his mouth again. Uneasily he looked over to Elaine.

"That kinda blew up in our faces," Bray stated deadpan, then smiled at another new arrival. "So your office hasn't eaten you yet?"

Brandt returned her smile as he sat down opposite of her. He caught her eyes and static seemed to crackle in the silence between them, then he lowered his gaze and took a long sip of his coffee. "Hi, Jane, how was Osaka?"

"Not as interesting as here, apparently," Carter replied and cast a suspicious glance around the table. "Where is Ethan?"

"He and Hunley were kidnapped two days ago," Luther answered.

"You're kidding," Jane replied and looked around the table for confirmation.

Brandt bit his lip and shook his head. "They attacked the armored convoy and killed seven of our security people in the process. And then they disappeared into the sewer," he explained. "And so far our only leads are an old contact who allegedly called Hunley that morning and that they seem to be after someone or something codenamed 'Morpheus'."

"What about that contact?" Skye asked. "Do we have anything more on that?"

"I had a look at Hunley's phone record for the morning three days ago, to see if I can find something about that mysterious contact of his," Brandt sighed. "There is only one call that fits the timing. From a burner phone that has since been deactivated and which last was logged near the station. To his office line."

"So another dead end," Luther summed up.

"More or less," the analyst admitted. "It's just weird that they called his office directly, without even going through the switchboard. There's maybe five people who have that number."

"Then, how did he get that number?" Elaine asked.

Brandt shrugged and turned to Benji. "Anything new on your end?"

"We put a trace on the secretary's mobile and Ethan's," the techie sighed. "But either they're switched off or off the grid. The last ping was at the airport."

"We also looked at footage from every camera that's near a big enough access point to the sewage system," Luther added. "But so far we're drawing a blank there, too."

"It's like they just disappeared into thin air," Benji complained.

"If they went into the sewer they have to get out again," Jane put in. "Or they're still down there."

"Even so, by now they could be anywhere," Skye added.

"Shouldn't this be a case for the FBI?" Carter asked. "Or Homeland?"

"The other agencies don't like us very much recently," Benji replied with a grimace.

"Also the kidnappers had inside information and they could have had it from any agency," Brandt said. "But I think I'll still call Brassel. It would help if we could discretely tap into some of Homeland's resources. And maybe he knows something about this Morpheus." He picked up his mug and drained it, then stood up. "I better get onto that."

"Do you have any idea what Morpheus is?" Jane asked.

"We think it's a codename, probably from Hunley's time in the CIA," Skye answered. "It's not ours, as far as we can tell. I couldn't find anything in the archives, not the digitalized ones at least. I'm on the analog stuff, but to be honest I doubt anything dating that far back is relevant."

"And short of cracking their servers we're not gonna get into their files," Luther commented, then caught Benji's glance. "Oh, no."

"It's not like it's never been done before," Benji shrugged. "Also we just need the archives, nothing too classified. And we still have their access codes..."

"If they find out, Brandt will kill us," Luther answered sourly.

"Then we'll just make sure they don't," Benji replied, grinning happily in anticipation of the challenge. He gave Skye a quick kiss before he got up. "See you later."

Luther also stood up. "I better keep an eye on him."

"And I think I'll get some sleep after all," Jane decided, stifling a yawn. She picked up her empty mug and left the table that suddenly felt very empty.

"Skye?" Elaine suddenly asked into the silence. Although she wouldn't have claimed they knew each other particularly well, the Dane would have said they were friends, but now Bray sounded weirdly shy. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Skye replied and moved one seat over to bridge the gap between them.

"You and Benji," she asked tentatively, "when did you know that you're, like, together?"

Skye blinked, taken aback. Then she decided that the cafeteria wasn't the place for that kind of conversation. "You know what," she said. "Let's see if there's some cake left in the office."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The office Skye worked in when she helped out in Extractions between missions was a shared space for three people, but luckily the two analysts also working there were both not present. They made a detour via the small office kitchen where she had left some leftovers in the morning and she salvaged two large pieces of caramel cheesecake.

Back in the office, Skye pulled over one of her colleagues' chairs, then pushed the small stack of papers on her own desk aside so they would have space to eat.

"Skye T?" Elaine asked quietly.

Skye looked up, taken aback, a glint of confusion and hurt in her eyes.

"It says there..." Bray pointed at a paper, then looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I didn't know you had a middle name."

Skye swallowed. "It's fine, just - unexpected. Someone used to call me that. Back in the day," she replied with a reminiscent smile. She cleared her throat, then she sat down and got back to business. "Now, what's bothering you?"

"It's Will," Bray explained, listlessly stabbing at the cake with her spoon. "Since I'm back, every time we're together it's like there's this giant elephant in the room. Like there's something he's not telling me. But probably I'm just overreacting."

She stopped her own rambling with an apologetic smirk and almost absentmindedly put the spoon-full of cake into her mouth. Then she looked up at the other agent wide-eyed and swallowed visibly. "You made that?"

"I grew up in a bakery," Skye replied with an amused smile. She had forgotten that Elaine had never eaten any of her cake before, but she was used to similar reactions from people who weren't used to Danish pastries. "Why don't you just ask him?"

"I tried that," Elaine answered dryly, digging into her cake with Benji-esque appetite. "I could be overreacting and things have been pretty busy, but it feels almost like he's avoiding me. Or at least avoiding talking to me. Then again we never said we're a thing."

She sighed and stared at the suddenly empty cake plate. "I just don't know what to do. I've never been in a relationship like this before," she grimaced, aware that now she was probably whining. But she did need to tell someone about this. "I mean I wouldn't be happy if he's seeing someone else. And I don't really think it's that, but why can't he just tell me what's going on?"

"You should talk to him," Skye decided. "Tell him how you feel."

"But I don't even know how I feel," Elaine complained with a grimace.

Skye scratched the last of the fudge off her plate, then leaned back in her chair. "Firstly I think Brandt cares more about you than you realize," she said. For a moment she contemplated how much to tell but then decided to go all out. "He was in bad shape when you were gone and worked around the clock to find you. The last couple of days have been really tough for him and I think he's probably just as confused as you are and hasn't had time to sort out his feelings yet."

Elaine frowned. "So I just wait?"

Skye shrugged. "You could talk to him," she replied. "You're in this together, so you'll have an easier time resolving it together."

"Alright," Elaine grumbled. "But how am I gonna talk to him if he won't talk to me?"

"You just have to make the first move," Skye pointed out. "Come on, you're a trained field agent. And he's into you. It's not that hard."

Elaine looked unsure. "You know there's a reason it took me three tries to get through field training once?"

"Just ask him to drive you home," Skye suggested. "And then ask him in for a drink."

The other agent grimaced. "I don't exactly have a home place."

Holt looked back at her incredulously. "Then where do you live?"

"Here mostly. I have a so called office downstairs and put a bed into it," Elaine shrugged. "Back when I first worked for the IMF, they gave me a flat in town, but that kinda got lost when the CIA took over. I'm sure I officially got a new place now, but I haven't bothered to check yet."

"I see," Skye replied thoughtfully, then a conspiratorial smile crept into her face. "I guess you just have to ask him out."

Elaine looked less than happy.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Alan Hunley woke up with a feeling like his head was bursting. He sat up with a jolt and only relaxed when he found there was no immediate danger. It had been some time since he had been active in the CIA, but he found his reflexes were still as sharp as ever.

"Sir?" a familiar voice asked a few meters to his left, the only other person in the room.

"Hunt," the secretary acknowledged the agent's presence. He massaged his temples until the throbbing headache started to fade. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," the other man admitted. Their voices were echoing off the high walls and somewhere in a corner, there was a constant dripping sound of water on stone.

Hunley looked up and around. They were in a stone-walled room of roughly fifty by fifty feet length. Moss was growing in every crevice and on damp spots on the floor. Thin beams of light were falling in from above through what seemed to be holes in the roof, but they were too far away to make out details.

His hands were held together by handcuffs that were secured to the floor with an iron chain. He carefully tested his restraints but they were bolted to the stone and there was no obvious weak point. The chains were barely long enough to let him stand up straight.

Hunt was sitting a few meters over, secured in a similar fashion. He was seemingly relaxed, leaning back against the wall, hands on his knees, but Hunley knew he was probably thinking hard about how to get them out of their current situation. Suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at the secretary. "Sir, who is Morpheus?"

"I'm not sure this is the right time..." Hunley started but was immediately interrupted.

"Sir," Ethan said pointedly. "I'm here to protect you. And I want to get you out of here alive, but to do that, I need to know what's going on."

Hunley sighed. It hadn't gone past him how the agent had singled him out, putting the secretary's life above his own. And he was probably right. Hunt was after all just one agent and it was part of his job to put his life on the line, whereas he had to run the whole goddamn agency. But that didn't mean he had to be proud of it.

"Morpheus was a contact," he explained. "Back in '94 when I was an agent with the CIA. He was never official..."

The secretary stopped when a heavy door on the other side of the room opened with a creaking sound. Three persons stepped in. Their features were hard to discern in the gloomy light, but the first one who clearly was in charge was a woman. Despite the dim lighting scars were casting sharp shadows over her face, making it look like a cracked marble statue.

"Special Agent Alan Hunley." She stopped right in front of the secretary. Her accent was a sharp variant of British. "You're older than I thought."

"And you are?" Hunley asked back.

"I guess I shouldn't hold it against you that you don't remember me," the woman replied and leaned down until their faces almost touched. "Maybe you would if my face was still as pretty as it was eighteen years ago."

Hunley didn't flinch. "What do you want?"

The woman stood up again with a long sigh. "It's not that hard actually," she said patronizingly. "I only want to know where Morpheus is, and if you tell me I can let you go back to your cozy little office instead of having you sit around in this cold and ugly dungeon."

"I don't know," the secretary replied unwaveringly.

"See, that's the thing," the woman said, drawing her face into a wolfish grin that made her scars dig in, so her cheeks looked like moon craters. "When your little helper said that, I guess she was right. But from you, I just can't believe it."

She waved at the two men behind her and they walked over to Ethan, effectively shielding the agent from Hunley's view. There was a metallic click and a heavy, sickening thud. When one of the men stepped aside Hunt was lying on the floor, the other man kneeling on his back, securing his arms.

"You have known Morpheus for years and you are – were – the director of the CIA. You can't tell me you didn't keep taps on your assets," the scarred woman continued. "But maybe you just need some incentive to jog your memory."

There was a suffocated groan from Ethan when his arm was twisted against the shoulder in a way that it wasn't designed for. Then it stopped when the door was opened loudly and everyone turned to the source of the noise.

"Boss," a voice said out of the dark. "We've got incoming."

"Good timing," the leader smirked.

There was another thud and Ethan collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Then the two men who had been busy with him came over to Hunley. They disconnected the handcuffs from the chain on the floor and dragged him out of the room after their boss.


	10. Part 2 - Chapter 3

**Part two**

 **Chapter three**

Hunley was taken through a maze of stone-walled corridors and up a set of metal stairs into a small room that was dimly lit by several monitors above a row of control panels. He was forced onto a metal garden chair that was placed in the middle of the room with the hands behind his back and the handcuffs were threaded through one of the vertical bars that formed the back of the chair.

"Now, Mr. Hunley," the scar-faced woman said behind him, uncomfortably close to his ear. "Maybe the well-being of your friend is enough of a reason to jog your memory. But by all means, take your time."

The secretary stared at the screens in front of him. They showed the room he had been held in, one zoomed in on Ethan, who was still lying hunched up on the floor, the other from further up, behind the grid that separated the room from the outside world. Water was running down the walls, rapidly covering the floor.

"In case you are wondering," the woman continued. "This room is connected to the storm drains, to store excess water in case of a storm and prevent flooding. Of course, there is an overflow drain, but I'm afraid that's above the safety grid. And of course, the intake and outflow valves are controlled by us."

On the screens, Ethan had gotten up. The water already stood waist high and was rising steadily.

"I don't know where Morpheus is," Hunley answered.

"I am impressed by your persistence," the woman replied with a shark-like smile. "You do realize that it could cost your friend his life?"

By now Hunt was treading water. The high walls of the room suddenly didn't seem so high anymore as the water level rose.

Hunley's jaws clenched. "I don't know where he is," he insisted. "I haven't seen him in years and I have no way of contacting him."

Ethan was now close enough to grab the iron bars, clinging to them in the desperate attempt of staying above the surface as long as possible. Then the grid was swallowed up by water and he disappeared in the floods.

"How long do you think he can hold his breath?" the woman sneered.

The secretary knew that as long as he didn't move and conserved oxygen Hunt could make it for several minutes, but not indefinitely.

"I don't know where he is," Hunley repeated. He didn't know what else to do. It was the truth.

"And if you did you wouldn't tell me," his interviewer chuckled, a cold rasping sound. "Come on, that trick is old."

Hunley bit back a comment and instead let out a relieved sigh. On the screen, the water was retreating. As soon as the metal grid was visible, Ethan's face popped out of the water, gasping for air.

"It looks like you'll have a little more time to reconsider your answer," the scarred woman commented with a smile that sent a chill down Hunley's spine. "Until the next rainfall."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Brandt's head narrowly escaped the bare foot that passed millimeters from his face, but his right hand easily caught it, when it arced back around. He tried to use it to bring his opponent down, but instead, she used it to slam her other foot into his face. Brandt managed to block the kick with his other arm, but it made him stagger backwards and they both landed on the mat.

Both fighters quickly rolled over to face each other again for a new round, but it was like a silent agreement between them that they would catch their breath for a moment.

"So, how is it you're not a field agent anymore?" Brandt asked breathing heavily. He had neglected his exercise routine shamefully lately and now he was paying the price.

Sanders grinned. After leaving the office today, the analyst had been in a mood to hit something and his watchdog had volunteered as a sparing partner. "Got a knife in the eye. Lost twenty percent of my vision on the left," she explained. "Could have been worse, but put me out of field work."

She was compensating very well, Brandt thought when she came at him with another, lower side kick which he caught easily, but turned out to be a feint when she used his hand as a stepping stone to wrap her other leg around his neck in a stranglehold. He noticed it early enough and pulled her down, but instead of around his shoulders her knee ended up in his ribcage and the combination of weight and momentum brought them both down. Another round ended in a draw.

Just as they had taken their positions again, there was a knock on the door-frame of the open sparing area. "Am I interrupting?"

"No," Sanders replied immediately and stepped off the mat, grabbing her towel.

Brandt followed her reluctantly. He dried his own face and hair in an effort to win some time, although he knew it was stupid. When he put the towel away, Elaine was standing right in front of him.

He looked at her with mild surprise. She was wearing tight fitting dark jeans, a beige hooded vest over a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and a thin loop-scarf with a floral pattern in muted blues. The scarf cleverly hid the bandaging still covering the stitches on her neck and while the padded bandages on her hand had been exchanged for band-aid like dressings, she kept her arms drawn back into the sleeves. It was still casual, but a lot more elegant than what she would usually wear.

"Hey," he said, failing to think of something better.

"Hey," she replied with a grin that seemed darkly foreboding to Brandt. "We're going out tonight."

It wasn't a question or an order but the irrevocable statement of a fact. "Any special occasion?" Brandt asked, wondering for a panicked moment if he had missed her birthday. But he had a bad feeling he knew what this was about, and it wasn't a birthday.

"Only that you should see something other than your office for at least one evening," Elaine replied with the same unsettling smile.

"Well," Brandt said and threw a questioning glance at Sanders.

"I think that should be alright," the redhead replied with a grin that was eerily similar to Elaine's and headed for the wash-rooms. Whatever was going on, Brandt felt she was in on it. "Just keep an eye on him."

Brandt quickly swallowed his discomfort and smiled back. "Can I shower first?"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

When Hunley was returned to the stone room, Ethan was sitting on the floor staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move when the goons chained them in place again nor when they shut the door behind them with a clang.

"Hunt?" the secretary asked.

"I'm alright," Ethan replied. After a moment he looked over with a tired smile. "Why do they want this Morpheus so badly?"

"I don't know," Hunley replied. "And I can't tell them where he is."

Hunt nodded understandingly. "What do you know about him?"

For a moment Hunley pondered how much he should say, considering that they could be listening. But there hadn't been any indication of audio surveillance in the control room and with the damp walls, the room wasn't easy to bug anyway. "He first showed up in the fall of '94, just walked into the lobby in Langley, handed the guy at the front desk a cellphone with instructions to give it to me," he explained. "He was very careful not to show his face to the camera, no one ever saw what he looked like. Back then I worked in the narcotics unit. Two hours later that phone rang and he gave me intel on freighters shipping cocaine into the States. He always seemed to know which operations we were involved in and kept his fingers out of those. Over the years he gave me tons of information, usually little bits that led to larger discoveries. I always gave it to analytics before passing it on, and it always checked out. And then, just before Christmas '99, it stopped."

"And you have no idea who he was?" Ethan checked back.

"No," Hunley replied. "He knew what he was doing and never gave us anything we could have identified him by. We tried to trace back the call several times but he always hung up before we could narrow it down properly."

Hunt bit his lip. "Who knew about Morpheus?"

"I don't know exactly, but not a lot of people," the secretary replied. "My direct superior in the office. The chief analyst, I guess, and probably the director."

"So whoever is looking for him now must have had a connection with him then," Ethan mused thoughtfully.

"Probably," Hunley replied dryly. "But that doesn't help us get out of here."

"No," Ethan sighed. "No, it won't."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"So, where are we going?" Brandt asked. The wet street reflected the light from the street-lamps that were standing out brightly against the inky black sky. The rain had stopped earlier and now a harsh cold wind was blowing in from the sea. Still, Brandt was sweating. He felt more anxious than he ever had on the most dangerous missions, but without knowing why.

"The Spice?" Elaine asked.

He suppressed a relieved sigh. They had been to the Secret Spice several times since that first date and he liked both the place and its owner, so at least there wouldn't be any more surprises there. "Sure."

They walked in increasingly awkward silence. Elaine didn't seem to care, but Brandt felt their not talking weighing down on him, grinding him into the ground. Yet he couldn't think of anything to talk about and when they reached the restaurant it felt like it granted him only a short respite.

Kamal nodded a greeting at them and Brandt returned it with a smile, then he turned to hang up their coats. His smile faded when he saw that instead of their usual places at the bar, Elaine was headed for a window table. This was serious.

The bartender came over immediately once they were seated. "The usual?" he asked with a knowing grin. The question hardly required an answer.

Once he was gone, they resumed their awkward silence. Brandt was aware Elaine was watching him intently, but he couldn't get himself to look up. Instead, he studied the pattern on the tablecloth and the reflections of the street light on the wet concrete outside the window until he had formulated his sentence. "I'm sorry you didn't get to see much of me the last two days."

"It's alright," Bray replied. "We've all had a lot of work."

It sounded sincere. And Brandt knew it was sincere but to him, it still felt like an excuse. "But we make time for the things that are important."

"Our work is important," Elaine countered. "Especially right now."

"Still." Brandt cleared his throat. "I feel like I should have made more time for you."

Elaine's eyes widened slightly, making them glow like glass and her gaze more intense. Her cheeks flushed slightly in a rare display of embarrassment. It hardly lasted a second. Then she looked down and a moment later she had regained her usual composure, but the warm smile lingered. "It's fine. Really."

Before the silence could stretch again, they were saved by Kamal bringing their drinks. Elaine took a long sip, then looked thoughtfully at Brandt for so long he started to get anxious again. "I'm thinking about moving out of the office."

"It is a bit small in there," Brandt replied, turning his glass in his hands, wondering where this was going.

Elaine chuckled dryly but refrained from a comment. "Well, I'll be grounded for another couple of weeks, so I thought now might be the time," she said instead. "And I thought maybe you'd help me find a nice place..."

Her voice trailed off and she first glanced then stared out of the window. Then she suddenly jumped up, almost knocking her chair over in the process. "I'm sorry," she said hastily. "I love you, but I got to go." Then she turned and ran off through the door.

Brandt sat and stared for a shocked moment, not knowing which part of that sentence to process first. His mind still felt like it hadn't fully caught up when he got up. He gave the bartender and apologetic glance as he passed, but Kamal just waved him through. Will only slowed down to pick up their coats at the door, then he ran off after her into the night.


	11. Part 2 - Chapter 4

**Part two**

 **Chapter four**

"Hunt?"

The agent was clearly outlined against the pale light falling in from above. He was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees close to his chest, his head tilted back, looking up. On hearing his name he shifted slightly. Although he was shivering visibly in his still damp clothes, his voice was almost steady. "Sir?"

"What are you thinking?" Hunley asked. He had spoken quietly, but his voice still echoed off the high walls.

"Nothing," Ethan replied evasively.

"Come on, there's something you're not telling me," the secretary said, watching him closely. "You've got a plan."

Hunt sighed. "Not exactly," he corrected. "There's a weak spot in the grid. I might be able to get out through there next time they flood the room, maybe even get past the cameras undetected."

Hunley nodded, impressed. "But?"

"But it's risky," the agent explained. "To break through there I'll need more energy and use up my oxygen reserves more quickly."

"So if you don't make it out, you'll probably drown," the secretary summed up and Hunt nodded. "But if you stay here, you'll probably die eventually anyway."

"That's the risk," Ethan agreed. "But even if I make it out, you're still here."

Hunley looked at him hard. "What's your point?"

"The moment they notice I'm gone, they're going to be out of here. And if we're lucky they'll take you along. If not..." Hunt kept the sentence hanging in the air and took a deep breath. "They're not going to take long to discover I'm not there anymore. At most, I'll have five minutes. Probably less. And even if I make it past the grid, I don't even know if I can actually get out."

The secretary nodded thoughtfully. Five minutes could be a lot of time in the right scenario, but to get out, find a phone and get someone here, wherever 'here' even was, it was a short head start, especially since it could easily be less.

"Hunt?" Hunley finally asked into the darkness.

"Sir?"

"If you think you can make it, I want you to try."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Brandt caught up with Elaine two blocks away at a large but almost empty intersection. She was standing at the corner of the side-walk, looking over the crossroads. Carefully he walked up to her and put her coat around her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"I saw someone," she replied. "She was on the train, in Chicago. I just spotted her outside the restaurant then lost her here."

Brandt nodded. "Do you think you can sketch her?"

In that moment a thin smile spread over her face, happy, but also predator like. "I think I can do one better," she said, fishing her phone out of her coat pocket.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"So what happened to your date?" Benji asked when Brandt and Elaine approached his desk.

"How does everyone know about..." Brandt muttered to himself but was interrupted.

"Work happened," Bray stated in a business tone. "Do you have what I asked for?"

"Of course I do," Benji said and flexed his fingers, looking over the screens one more time. "We have the cameras from the crossroads here, shop security, traffic cams, and the neighboring streets." He pointed at the video frames in turn. "Time code is one and a half minutes before you called me."

"Okay, go," Elaine said, looking over his shoulder. Benji hit a key and stabbed it again only a couple of seconds later when she called: "Stop. There."

The techie followed her pointing and singled out the dark figure under the street lamp, enlarging her face. The woman was of medium height, maybe 5'10'', and had dark, grey-streaked curls framing a weathered caramel skinned face dotted with crater like scars. "That's her," Bray confirmed.

Brandt allowed himself a smile. "How long do you need to find her?"

"Five, maybe ten minutes to clear up the picture and feed it into face-rec," Benji shrugged. "And then we'll just have to see what comes up."

"We'll leave you to it then," Brandt said and patted him amicably on the shoulder before he headed to the door. Just outside the main office, Elaine pulled him aside into an empty room.

She closed the door carefully, then took a long look at him. "I'm sorry I just took off like that earlier," she finally said.

"It's fine, really," Brandt replied sincerely and gently touched her arms, but the irony made him chuckle.

Elaine looked flustered for a moment, but then her eyes caught his gaze. She took a step forward bridging the gap between them. Her hands moved up his elbows to his shoulders and through the few inches that remained, they could feel the heat radiating off each other.

"What you said earlier," Brandt asked tentatively. "Did you mean that?"

"What?" Elaine replied, surprised. "When?"

"In the restaurant," he specified. "Just before you left."

She bit her lip. "I didn't really think about it when I said it," she admitted. "But I guess."

Will's eyes lit up, making the sometimes sharp edges of his face smooth out into a warm smile. He pulled her closer and she let him. All that neither of them had dared to say, dared to ask, passed unspoken between them in this moment when their lips touched.

The door of the small office flew open so hard, it bounced off the wall with an audible thud. Benji followed up the inertia of the door, then stopped dead. "Sorry..." he started.

Elaine turned around, in less than a second she was back in work mode. "What is it?"

Benji's face flipped back into his happy grin. "We got a match."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It started raining again during the night. Hunley was woken from a fitful nap by thick drops falling on his face. The door opened a moment later, and again he was dragged to the small control room. By the time he sat in front of the monitors again, Ethan was already standing in knee high water.

"I brought something along today that might help you to reach a decision," the woman said from behind him. She set up a small laptop computer next to the big screens. It showed a TV weather forecast for the area and a timer. The weather show was on mute, but the symbols on the map were clear: Rain was coming in from the ocean and it might hold up for days. The woman grinned. "Now, you know what I want."

Ethan was keeping himself afloat with small, short breast strokes. "Why are you doing this?" Hunley asked, knowing that playing for time wouldn't help him any. But he couldn't bear to just watch in silence. "What do you want with Morpheus?"

"That's a nice trick, Agent Hunley. But it's not going to get you anywhere," the woman replied with a dry chuckle. "The current world record for breath holding is somewhere around 22 minutes, but even most trained free divers don't make it remotely that far."

On the video screen, the water level had reached the grid again. "Now I'm not a monster," the woman continued, starting the timer as soon as it was completely submerged. "Let's give your friend five minutes and see how he's doing then."


	12. Part 2 - Chapter 5

**Part two**

 **Chapter five**

"We managed to clear up the picture we pulled from the security footage enough to feed it into our software," Benji stated rapidly. "We also put it through our database, but didn't get any returns."

"What he's saying is that we don't know who she is," Luther interrupted more slowly, but even he was obviously infected with the other techie's excitement. "But we found this."

Several pictures appeared on the big screen behind them, all showing the woman standing in front of a heavy metal door set in stone that had a large sign prohibiting unauthorized persons from entering. The lighting was significantly different in each frame, suggesting at least several hours had passed between the different pictures.

"What's that?" Brandt asked.

"An access to the underground sewage system," Luther replied.

"More specifically to the storm drain overflow tanks and the corresponding control room," Benji added with a wide grin.

"Perfect place to hide someone," Skye muttered.

The analyst nodded in acknowledgment. "Do we have blueprints of the place?"

"We do," Benji replied proudly. Behind him, a set of layered schematics in different colors on white background appeared. He started pointing out different structures. "These are walkways, control rooms, and these pipelines. And there is a direct connection from the access point at Reagan Airport to here. But we got one more thing."

"There are also security cameras in the hallways and in front of the control rooms," Luther continued. "We haven't been able to pull anything useful from that footage, but that's because the cameras in this area have all been looped." A crossing of hallways, the adjacent control room and three of the overflow tanks lit up.

"Looped?" Elaine asked just to make sure.

"They're showing old footage of an empty hallway," Benji clarified. "Someone's been very clever there. They even fixed the time codes, so it's very hard to spot."

"The point is someone is definitely hiding something down there," Luther added and tapped at the still lit up control room in the schematic.

Brandt turned around to Pike, but the Head of Security and Chief of Operations anticipated his question. "I'll have a team ready in ten," she said and left the table.

The analyst nodded and allowed himself a smile. "Good job," he whispered to Elaine and kissed her on the cheek before he got up to leave.

"And what about me?" Benji complained.

"You too," Skye replied and gave him a quick kiss. But when he turned to her for a follow-up, she had stepped away and was already halfway to the door. "Come on! We've got to go!"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hunley couldn't see the woman turning around, but he heard the sharp scraping of heels on stone floor just after the door opened. "What did I say...?" she shouted, but then stopped.

"Boss, we got a problem," a breathless voice sounded from the door. "There's people coming."

The woman cursed under her breath, then turned around to her two goons. "Take him," she ordered. "We got to go. Hurry!"

The men picked up Hunley's chair on either side and carried him after the woman who led the way in long, panicked strides. Just as they rounded the first corner, one of the goons suddenly collapsed and the other quickly let go to not fall over, so the secretary landed hard on his right side.

Behind him he heard shouts and footsteps, then another gunshot and something falling. Someone ran quickly past him, then suddenly a familiar face appeared in his field of vision. "Mr. Secretary," Luíse Pike smiled. "Good to have you back, sir."

Hunley acknowledged her with a nod. He fought back a surge of nausea when his chair was forcefully put back upright. By the time the world stopped spinning around him, the handcuffs came off with a silent click. When he got up and turned around, Holt was just putting the hairpin back into her bun.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The access to the underground waterways was no more than a simple grey door in a quiet back alley with a faded 'Do Not Enter' sign. From there a staircase of metal steps spiraled downwards until it connected with a square stone platform at the corner of an intersection of two tunnels.

Agent Carter was the first to step down onto it and looked around. "Where are we going?"

"That way," Luther decided next to her once he had consulted the map on his phone and led the way to the right.

The water in the tunnels was shallow, but Jane scowled at the splash of her boots in the slick. Some things were the same everywhere.

"You alright?" Luther asked when she caught up with him.

Jane grimaced. "I hate sewers."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Benji was taking point when they ran into the secretary and his captors. He took out the first with a shot in the leg but didn't even bother with the other guy. He had seen the woman disappear around the next corner and while someone else took care of the second goon, he took off at a run after her.

"This is Pike," he could hear over the radio a moment later. "We've got the secretary safe and sound."

Benji followed the woman down the corridor, slowly closing in on her. They rounded another bend and suddenly he found himself in front of an empty T-section. He ran up to the crossing corridor and took a quick look left and right, but there was no one there to be seen. Making a decision he ran off right, but at the next cross-section he came up empty again.

"Benji here," he said between rapid breaths. "We've lost the woman."

"We don't have her on camera," Crover responded from the van. "But there's movement in the upper pipelines. C quadrant."

Benji correlated the information with his mental map and knew she couldn't be there. Which meant unless she ran into one of their outside teams, she had escaped them, and somehow he doubted that would happen. He swore quietly.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Sir?" Alarm crept into Pikes voice as the secretary got up and walked right past her. Quickly she caught up with him. "Sir, I think we should get you out of here."

"We have to go back," Hunley stated. "They still have Agent Hunt."

"We can look for Hunt," Pike replied, stressing it so it was clear he was not included. "But I'd like you to be outside, where it's safe."

"No time for that," the secretary decided and stormed through the door of the control room. Behind him, Skye had caught up and gave Pike a questioning look, but the chief of security only replied with a resigned shrug.

Holt took a look around. The room was small and bare, except for the switchboards in front of them and two video monitors. Her eyes were drawn to the countdown that immediately made her feel uneasy. It took her a moment to realize that it was actually counting up, now showing 4:47.

"Hunt is in there," Hunley explained, pointing at the unbroken surface on one screen. "It's an overflow tank. There's a grid in the water. The timer is counting how long he's been in."

4:56

Skye looked at the array of buttons and blinking lights in front of her and cursed quietly. With nothing else to go on, she started to systematically go through what looked like the most likely candidates. In between attempts she had to look at the screen and see if anything happened. These seconds felt excruciating. Holt didn't want to waste any time, but she had to make sure it hadn't worked before she went on, and she knew the water might drain so slowly she wouldn't notice it right away.

5:09

"What's going on?"

Benji's voice ripped Skye out of her thoughts for just a moment, then she hurriedly explained the situation to him while he got an overview of the switchboard himself. "We'll have to drain the tank," he said thinking aloud rather than explaining as he tried to recall the details on the blueprints he had seen earlier. "These should be the release valves."

5:24

Benji flicked the switches in question, but only one would stay open at a time. He would have to try them separately. After the first turned out to be wrong he found himself anxiously glancing at the timer as the time seemed to flow out of his grasp.

5:37

He was starting to sweat, his fingers feeling moist on the controls. Impatiently he wiped his hands on his trousers. Time was ticking away relentlessly and he was starting to fear he had gotten it wrong.

5:46

Suddenly there was a surprised gasp next to him. Benji looked at the screen. The water was draining, faster than he had thought it would. The grid was already shining through below the surface. He glanced at the timer.

5:54

Surely Ethan could hold his breath for six minutes?

The metal bars were visible above the water now. He could even see a shadowy reflection on the quickly receding but unbroken surface below. Benji swallowed. Hunt was nowhere to be seen.


	13. Part 2 - Chapter 6

**Part two**

 **Chapter six**

Jane shone her flash-light up the glistening wet walls as she walked along. The 'movement' Crover had picked up on video was supposedly right in front of her, but since it was dark in the sewer except for their torches, it was hard to make out anything except the exit up ahead, where light was falling in from above, presumably from a street light.

She hoped it wasn't an alligator. The agent hadn't heard of any of them showing up in the capital, but there had been multiple sightings in New York and if they had made it there, what stopped them from coming into D.C.?

Carter signaled the agents behind her to stop when she saw the movement up ahead. It was hardly more than a shadowy outline against the light at the other end of the pipeline. "Stop! Police!" she called. Not that a reptile would care very much when most people didn't.

She angled her flash-light up to get a better look, but the damp walls and shallow water on the floor were reflecting so much it was blinding her, so she put it down again. The shadow meanwhile had moved away from the wall and she noticed with relief that it was man-shaped. People, at least, she could deal with.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Ethan couldn't remember when he had last been so tired. As he had feared, the grid didn't give way as easily as he had thought. Treading water alone hadn't given him enough hold and the moss-covered walls had offered hardly any resistance. But he had only discovered that when he had already been halfway through. And then there had been no way back.

The sharp ends of metal rods where the grid had broken off the wall digging into his ribcage he fought himself up millimeters at a time, feeling his energy wane with every passing second. His hands were already above the water, trying again and again to find something dry to hold onto. When his head finally broke through the surface, his vision was blurry, his pulse pounding in his ears and his lungs aching for oxygen. The first few seconds he could do nothing but hang onto the slippery wet stone wall for dear life.

Then he looked around. He had to get out. Above him were rectangular grids similar to covers of underground storm drains, but they were too high up to reach them and the walls had already proven too slippery to climb. Luckily, there was another way out.

In the middle of the wall to his right, a large drain pipe ended just a meter above the grid and except for the spot where he had broken through, the metal bars seemed to support his weight. Clinging to the wall for support he stumbled over. The floor of the drain was even more covered in slick and algae than the walls of the tank, and the fact that it was round didn't help either.

Several times he slipped back into the water. When he finally made it up, his knees collapsed and he threw up. His whole body was shivering from cold and exhaustion, begging him to stay sitting there despite the damp, just a moment longer. But he knew he couldn't.

If they found out he was gone before he got away and found him there, he was dead. And even if they didn't, wet and exhausted as he was, in the cold of a February night his survival chances weren't very great to begin with. And he still had a responsibility to Hunley.

He had to get out, Ethan decided and scrambled up on the slippery rounded floor, then froze when he was looking straight in the beam of a flashlight.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

When the shape didn't move, Jane cautiously stepped forward. "Police!" she shouted again. The word was garbled by the echo of the tunnel-like structure and she refrained from more complicated orders. Luther, meanwhile, had come level with her while the other agents stayed behind.

The man seemed to understand well enough and just stood there, his hands raised, as they approached. When they were about five feet away, Jane shone up his flashlight again, to get a better look.

"Ethan?" she asked in surprise, then stepped forward just quickly enough to catch him, when he took a staggering step forward and slipped.

Hunt steadied himself with some effort and Jane decided to keep an arm around him. He looked like he needed it. "What are you doing here?" he managed to get out between chattering teeth.

"Saving your ass, that's what," Luther replied. He had taken his coat off and put it around Ethan's shoulders.

Ethan nodded. "Hunley?"

"We got him," Jane answered. "He's fine."

"Good," Hunt replied and managed a shaky grin. "Thanks for the rescue."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Brandt leaned back in his chair with a sigh and stared at the words in the death certificate. 'Respiratory failure likely caused by morphine overdose or cross-reaction with unknown substance.' He put the papers on his desk, closed his eyes and ran a hand over his forehead in a futile attempt to smooth out the frown that had long seemed to become permanent.

Technically now that Hunley was back this wasn't his problem anymore, but he still felt frustrated. The scar-faced woman had slipped away from them in the sewers and while they had managed to bring in two of her henchmen for questioning, one of them was now lying in the morgue and the other in ICU in a coma the doctors weren't sure he'd ever wake up from. The only thing they had said was that she had paid them in regular doses of some drug, but hadn't been able to say what exactly. And they were no closer to knowing whoever Morpheus was or what he had to do with all this than before.

A knock on the door ripped him out of his thoughts. Elaine was standing in the doorway with a questioning smile. Brandt waved her in. "Any news on our mystery substance?" he asked. She wasn't allowed to work in either the labs or the infirmary until her hands were fully healed, but he knew she still tried to stay on top of things.

Elaine shrugged. "The analyses aren't fully complete yet and it's definitely something new," she explained. "It seems to be something similar to Meth, but we already guessed that from the symptoms."

"Yeah," Will sighed and tiredly rubbed his eyes. He looked up when Elaine suddenly stood behind him, massaging the base of his skull with two fingers.

"Don't beat yourself up about it," she said. "We didn't know they were on anything until the first one went into cardiac arrest. Morphium is standard medication for gunshot wounds and the two things just don't mix well."

"I know," he mumbled and leaned in to her touch. The same explanation, although more scientific, had been in the official incident report.

Suddenly Elaine's voice sounded next to his ear. "You finished here?" she asked, leaning on the back of his chair, her head on his shoulder.

Brandt looked over his desk that was unusually empty. Once Hunley had been back his paperwork had decreased significantly and the only reason he was still here right now was that he just hadn't wanted to go home yet. "Sure," he smiled.

"I borrowed some movies from Benji," Elaine explained with a conspiratorial smile, holding up a hand full of DVD covers. "And you still owe me a date."

"Sounds good," Brandt replied and turned to leave, but she stopped him just before the door.

"I still think we should get out of here for a bit," she added. "There's some good hotels in town."

Will had to agree. Now she had offered him an option, he couldn't wait to get away from work, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to get some physical distance either. In a split second he made a decision and hoped he wouldn't regret it. "Or we go to my place."

Elaine kept her surprise well hidden behind a neutral poker face, but he could see the twinkle in her eyes. Then her smile spread into a careful grin. "I'd like that."


	14. Epilogue

And here we are again at an end...

Thanks for sticking with me so far and cheering me on with your reviews, it's so much fun to see your reactions!

Don't worry, the next stories are already in the making. But in the outside world life has caught up with me since university began again this month, so it might be some time until I can post again.

Until then, here's another little something.

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 _Blood._

 _There was so much blood._

 _He was choking. Drowning._

… _No..._

 _Something was strangling him._

 _Someone._

 _The blood was just in his head._

 _His vision was tinted red by the lack of oxygen._

 _He struggled against the grip. His fingers found a hold. He slipped._

 _There was a loud crack._

 _A gunshot?_

 _An explosion?_

 _He was falling..._

Brandt woke up with a start. Before he knew what was going on, he was sitting upright. He felt hot, yet his fingers were trembling. The next moment he was cold, but still sweating. Just a nightmare, he thought and took several deep breaths to calm down. For a moment he felt confused until he realized he was in his own bed, in his own flat.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he marveled about the fact that it had taken less than a week for him to not be freaked out anymore by not being alone here. But the fingers softly massaging his neck through short strands of sweaty wet hair felt good, relaxing. "You alright?" Elaine asked quietly.

"Yeah," Will sighed and leaned back against her hand. "Just a dream."

He pulled the blanket back up. The trembling had stopped but he still felt cold. He was about to lie down again when something made him stop in a half sitting position. He sniffed. "Is that coffee?"

"I couldn't sleep either," Elaine replied apologetically. Only now he noticed she was sitting cross-legged on the other half of the bed, a sweater pulled over the t-shirt she had slept in. "Want some?"

Will glanced at the clock on his bedside table and decided that sleep probably was wishful thinking for this night anyway. "Sure," he replied and fought his way out of the tangled sheets. While Elaine disappeared into the kitchen, he put on a sweater jacket before meeting her in the living room.

Two steaming cups were waiting on the couch table, hers clearly denoted by the splash of milk. The TV screen showed a naked Arnold Schwarzenegger, his demand for clothes, boots and a motorcycle captioned underneath. He was weirdly touched by the fact she had turned it on silent to not wake him up.

"You went on without me?" he asked with mock hurt and made himself comfortable.

Elaine shook her head. "I fell asleep last night," she admitted and snuggled up onto his shoulder as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"I did, too," Will chuckled. He reached for the remote to start the movie over and turn on the sound. Every nightmare, he thought, should end like this.


End file.
